#[ooc] and i hope it's okay nonetheless!! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[temis-de-leon]

Dateables realizing their feelings for reader

Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 2 , Part 3 , Demon Brothers version

Romance Anon: Could I request headcanons for Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Simeon realising his feelings for gn reader?

A/N: I think the reason why this one took so long is that I already described part of their crush in Part 2 (originally Part 1), so this feels just like an "extra". I don't really like it and it feels very OOC and incomplete, but it's the best I could do <3

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Diavolo

He has always been thankful for his ability to read emotions. It helps him distinguish between those who try to take advantage of his positive nature and other, more honest, people willing to open their minds to his ideas, even if they disagree. 

This gift tends to leave him drowning in isolation as if he were observing a party he wasn’t invited through a window. Would he rather live amongst lies and blissful ignorance? Would he prefer not knowing when someone has intentions of hurting him?

Those are drastic thoughts, he knows, but they roam his mind nonetheless. 

Diavolo is painfully aware of the main root of his recent ruminations; not a traitor amidst his court or a threat from far away, but, instead, something more heartbreaking: his new human friend. 

The moment his daydreamings begin to include you more and more, the dread of realization stops his heart. He’s never fallen in love, let alone with a human. What is he supposed to do?

The possibility of letting you go so both could find a better fit crosses his mind, but his unwillingness to lose you doesn’t let him entertain the idea. 

Would you fall for him as well? You, the one who treats him like a friend and not a loyal servant? The one who, after seeing the leathery wings behind his back and the ornate horns above his head, still pushes him to become what he could be? To reach what he yearns to achieve?

He’ll have you if you allow it, and he’ll wish for it if you don’t.

Barbatos

He'd like to have more time to evaluate how strong his feelings for you are, but, ironically, there's no such thing for him.

Your smile stays in his mind while he runs errands and the melody of your laugh follows him in silent moments. He writes your name instead of food while listing groceries and your voice stands out the most when everyone is reunited.

Attraction; the birth of affection.

He thinks (hopes?) those aren't stable enough to evolve into something more frightening, but how wrong he is.

In reality, Barbatos is as jealous as Mammon, but his resentment towards said demon doesn't appear until the brothers start to argue about you when you aren't around.

Is it true? Is Mammon "your first"?

Although composed as ever, there's no denying his change of heart. He feels frustrated, but not at you, and the sourness fills his mouth no matter what he eats.

When the misunderstanding is clarified, after another one of Mammon's fits and Satan's exasperation in retaliation, the sense of relief leaves him dizzy.

It is serious then, isn't it? Nothing he can escape unless wanting heartbreak.

Forcing and rushing your reciprocation is not something he feels comfortable with; what would be worth if it weren't natural?

He's willing to wait, being the patient demon he is, and while his longing grows with each passing day, enjoying the journey feels just as exciting.

Solomon

The human sorcerer falling for the other human exchange student?

It's a slow process and he doesn't notice the change until it's too late. One moment you're just acquaintances and the next he can't do anything without thinking about you.

He has a book you might like, why not go to Purgatory Hall for a quick visit?

Are you okay? Do you feel lonely? He knows the brothers can be a handful sometimes, so don't worry and talk to him whenever you need to.

He supposes it makes sense, but that doesn't make it less disheartening.

How cliche of him to develop feelings for the only person in the Devildom he will outlive.

The memories of past long-lost lovers haunt him as he ponders the idea of giving you a chance. He knows loving you would feel wonderful, but do you even like him back? Is the risk worth a chance?

Will it compensate for the pain that your eventual passing would bring?

As time passes and the potential of your powers arises, Solomon decides that he'd rather try and lose than not try at all.

Who knows? Maybe fate will trick you both and let him have you for the rest of eternity.

Simeon

From all the things Simeon thought he would learn while living in the Devildom, experiencing love was not one of them.

The feeling per se isn't foreign to him, he knows it in many forms, but what he finds in you doesn't resemble anything he's ever seen or felt before.

It fills his heart until it's bursting at the seams and, yet, he still wants more.

He daydreams a lot, captivated by your image to the point of losing awareness of his surroundings. He blushes and humms, doodling and making romantic interests for his stories according to everything he sees in you, both the good and the bad side.

Simeon has a positive mental attitude around his growing infatuation towards you, since, while the possibility of not being reciprocated is there, he knows your friendship goes beyond that.

Perhaps that is why you settled so easily in his heart: the roots of platonic love wouldn't go to rott if being rejected were the case.

This is new and exciting for him, an unknown path he's willing to explore regardless of the results.

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Taglist: @ilovecandys2010  @ollieoven

[chuuyasheaven]

bsd men as tits ass or thighs pls :3?? (specifically meursault boys)

“Tits, Ass or Thighs— What do they prefer?”

“—Everybody’s got certain preferences, don’t they? So, what are theirs?”

Tags: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Chuuya Nakahara, Sigma / afab! Reader, Nipple play?, ooc! Sigma, praising kink, degrading kink, overstimulation, pet names?, hdc format ig, thigh riding?, hickeys, mentioned lingerie?, spanking, mild brat taming, atp everyone may be ooc, face sitting, oral sex (afab! and m! recieving), titty job, messes of their milk, might contain grammar errors, this is a lot holy shit, etc.

Notes: Maybe u just meant Dazai, Fyodor and Chuuya but I added Nikolai and Sigma for funsies— hope this is okay tho!! And I never wrote for Sigma before so sorry if he’s so ooc. . Maybe he’s gonna be added to my list lol.

Dazai Osamu ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 I just know that he loves your thighs!! In my opinion, DAZAI lives for seeing you in thigh highs, especially if you have thick thighs. What do you mean you don’t wanna crush him with them??? What else are they made for then— oh, right, hickeys. It’s obvious that he’ll leave some marks here and there for fun, but another thing he lives about them is face sitting. This is literally the best way to die?!!? But also he lives to grab your thighs when he eats you out!!!

💙 Scenario;

He’s been at it for too long, you don’t even remember how many times you came already. . “Dazai, p–please. . S–sensitive!”, you tried to beg, but Dazai was way into this— Once you sit on this mans face, he won’t let go until your too sensitive, Dazai also always leave hickeys while he’s at it. Chanting how he would love to die this way, being crushed by your massive thighs. “—Why should I? You’re still talking properly, I won’t stop until you’re only able to moan my name. Now be a good girl, alright, ‘donna?”

Fyodor Dostoevsky ;

💙 Thighs 💙

💙 In all honesty, this man is a mystery for me– but if I would have to chose, thighs. FYODOR is kinda religious and stuff, meaning he’s definitely gonna be kinda traditional. (i do not know wtf I’m talking abt.) Fyodor doesn’t know what it is, but something about you in white lingerie and white thigh highs sets him off completely. Looking all innocent but being the complete opposite? Yes, absolute approval from him. But being the busy man he is, he’ll let you sit on his lap while he caresses your thighs!! :3

💙 Scenario ;

Seriously, how desperate are you? Walking up to Fyodor in white lingerie and white thigh highs while he’s obviously working? He finds it quite amusing how you think he’ll stop immediately to fuck you, no he won’t, yet. Fyodor just commands you to sit on his lap, now you’re getting off on his own thighs. But you’re still wearing panties, though he doesn’t care, you wanted this, didn’t you? As you keep grinding against it, he slapped your pussy through the fabric multiple times before. The small whines and whimpers are cute, but won’t change his mind to take you right now. “—I don’t really know what you expected me to do. . Well, actually, i did. It’s quite adorable how you think just because you’re desperate I’ll feed into your desires. Anyway, you seem to be getting off pretty easily, slut.”

Nikolai Gogol ;

💙 Tits 💙

Come on, this is so NIKOLAI, seriously. He's so silly, he would literally call them his personal stressballs. (Do not even try to deny it, it's canon.) Nonetheless, he likes to cum on them, Nikolai will make a mess out of them every time whenever you're giving him head. Another thing their useful for, in his opinion, is tit fucking!! It's a nice feeling for him when his dick's inside of your tits. Not to forget, your nipples are pretty fun to play with, but there's one last thing about them. .

💙 Scenario ;

There are many reasons why Nikolai adores you riding him! He loves how he barely has to do anything, hearing the adorable sounds leaving your mouth while you get off on his cock and most importantly, the way your tits bounce with you. All he's doing is laying back and enjoying the view of your tits almost bouncing out of your bra, he would love if they were to actually jump out. “—Hm, would you look at that! Your tits are seconds away to spill out of your bra, dove. I wouldn't mind if they did, maybe you just need to ride my dick faster. . Just like the needy whore you are.”

Sigma ;

💙 Tits 💙

I’m not really sure if it’s accurate, but running an casino ain’t easy. So what’s better than having you and your comfort. .—able tits? SIGMA would never admit it, but he loves them, dearly at that. If he ever needs an break, his head would probably rest on them. On the spicy side, he loves a good tit job. You mentioned this once and Sigma wasn’t against it, sure he was blushing over your suggestion but after he tried it, he loved it!!!

💙 Scenario ;

It felt good, really, Sigma loved your suggestion! He never thought of something like this, he never thought about recieving a tit job, but it felt heavenly. Just the way your tits were rubbing against his cock so good, it felt unreal. . The most beautiful whimpers left his lips, with his flushed expression on his face too, you assumed Sigma was enjoying himself, very. Soon he reached his climax, letting his cum leak on your tits. “—F–fuck. . You did s–so good, darling. Now, lay back and let me return the favor, yeah?”

Chuuya Nakahara ;

💙 Ass 💙

Ah, yes. CHUUYA is, in my opinion, an ass man. I saw a few people say that, and I agree. Like, he’s literally proud of that. He would slap your ass unexpected, respectfully though. He wouldn’t care if you’re carrying a bakery or not, he still slapping it!! Chuuya loves to spend money on matching bras and panties for you, but on your in general. Sometimes it gets to your head or something and you start to act out, which our ginger won’t let slide.

💙 Scenario ;

Lately, you’ve gotten on Chuuya’s nerves. Yeah, he loves to spend money on you and you, but he won’t stand you being bratty. As to right now, he’s ‘punishing’ you for it. The reference for ‘punishing’ is quite just fucking you until it’s stuck in your pretty little brain not to act out again. This time though, Chuuya added something to your punishment. . “Ch–chuuya. . ‘m sorry, I–i didn’t mean to—”, you tried to apologize, only to be silenced by another spank. “—Really? Too bad, you’re gonna take this if you want me to fuck you, baby. Just keep on taking f’me and I’ll fuck you soon enough, m‘kay?”

OH EM GEE YOU GUYS IT TOOK ME THREE DAYS TO FINISH

[actiniumwrites]

hiii ! I saw that your requests were open :) could I request a scenario with scaramouche and xiao. Where their lover is a super cheerful person, but someone makes fun of them and they get super protective. p.s I really like your writings ^^

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

synopsis: how they defend you, their cheerful lover, after hearing other people talk bad about you

characters: scaramouche, xiao x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: fluff, a pinch of angst, hurt/comfort, insults, physical violence (not toward reader), swearing, insecurity, xiao may be a little ooc

notes: thank you so much for the request, anon! these are a little short, but i did enjoy writing this. i also tried my hardest to capture the reader as very cheerful, but it was a little difficult to do without it being overbearingly cheerful, so i hope it turned out okay. and i’m very happy you enjoy my writing, it means so much to me <3

Scaramouche:

A trip around Sumeru City was not what Scaramouche had planned to do that day when he offered to spend time together — of course, he couldn’t admit that what he really wanted was to go on a proper date, but he settled for this nonetheless. As long as you’re happy, he thought.

All day you had been pulling him around to various little shops and sights around the city. Even though many of them had existed for many years, you felt as though they were hidden gems amongst all of Teyvat. And with both of you originally being from Inazuma, neither of you had really had the chance to experience all of Sumeru together.

Scaramouche didn’t mind it to be honest — you dragging him around, to be specific. As soon as he saw that stupid big smile on your face, any ounce of resentment for his inability to communicate what he wants drained from his body. Naturally, he still put on the mask of boredom, but with you being your excited self bouncing around the city, you hadn’t even noticed. So he dropped the act, and just let himself live for once.

Just before the sun was about to set and conclude the day’s fun, your hand quickly grabbed his as you dragged him over to a flower shop. When you had first arrived in Sumeru, the very first thing you ever took notice of was all the different plants and flowers. And ever since, you’ve tried to get flowers or other little plants whenever you can.

Scaramouche picked up his pace to match yours, although still dragging a bit behind, his hand held on tight to yours. But as soon as you arrived at the front of the shop, your hand moved to the flowers and away from him. Quietly, he moved to the side and watched as you admired the flowers.

“Wow, these are so beautiful! Did you grow them yourself?” you excitedly asked the man at the shop. There were an array of bright and colorful flowers in front of you, each one carefully tied among others to create stunning bouquets.

The man, who appeared to be the shop owner, furrowed his brows and gave you a light scoff, “Pfft, of course I did.”

To that, Scaramouche snapped his eyes over at the man who hadn’t seemed to pay him any mind. His arms crossed over one another as he eyed the man, not pleased with his attitude, but not saying anything just yet. As Nahida had taught him, he can’t just go around accusing everyone of having malicious intent. So for once, he would wait and see, maybe give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps he was just having a bad day or something or didn’t mean to come across like that.

“Oh, Archons. Those vases are just as beautiful as the flowers. I saw some really pretty ones at another shop, but these are even better! You really have a good eye, sir!”

The man rolled his eyes and ignored your comment. Meanwhile, Scaramouche sent him a subtle glare from the other side of you. The guy was giving him a bad feeling that he just couldn’t seem to shake.

After a few more minutes of you pointing and beaming at different bouquets and individual flowers of all different kinds, compliments pouring out of you left and right, the man finally snapped.

“Would you just shut up already? I’ve had it up to here with how much you talk. You are so annoying, I mean my god, I get it! I have nice flowers and I’m a talented gardner, just pick some and go!” he yelled out, flaring his arms around the air.

“Screw what Nahida said,” Scaramouche grumbled.

In a split second, you were behind your boyfriend and his arm was held tightly onto the shop owner’s, “Are you done? Cause let me tell you, you have to be a real piece of shit to yell at someone who’s just excited about flowers.”

“Let me go, damn it!” He tried yanking back his arm, desperately trying to pull Scaramouche’s off of him. If only he had known he was messing with an ex-harbinger and a being created by a God.

Scaramouche spoke in a dangerously low tone, “You don’t get to talk to them like that, you hear me? Do it again, and I’ll ruin your fucking life.”

The man backed up quickly, hitting the side of his shop and falling backward. A few people stopped to snicker at him, but Scaramouche paid no mind. His hand slipped into yours and he eagerly pulled you away from the chaos.

He gagged and wiped the hand that grabbed the man against his shirt as the two of you walked to a quiet area, “People like that disgust me.”

You nodded quietly and sat down on the bench he had brought you to. His eyes filled concern for a brief moment before he blinked it away. Sighing, his hand squeezed yours and he nervously gulped, unprepared for situations that involved any form of comfort, “Are you…are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you spoke softly, not quite meaning it, “Thanks for sticking up for me back there.”

Gently, he pulled you into him, “Don’t listen to people like that, you hear me? The only annoying one out of the two of you was that ugly piece of shit. So don’t go all sad on me, okay? I mean it.”

Xiao:

“Hello, my love!” you loudly called out at The Inn, happily marching in to greet him on the upper floor. A few people on the deck below looked up quickly, startled by your bold introduction.

Xiao nodded at you, a small blush on his cheeks and small, “Hi.” Even after nearly a year of dating, you still managed to fluster him.

Your arm looped around his, pulling him closer to you. You sent him a bright smile and tilted your head toward his, “Are you ready for our lunch date?”

Xiao nodded and moved your hand off his arm and down to his hand where he softly clasped his fingers around your own.

When you arrived at Liyue Harbor, the two of you began walking to your favorite restaurant. It was really nice with all the outdoor seating that allowed the both of you to enjoy the fresh breeze from the ocean while you ate. It also allowed Xiao to be more comfortable instead of being cramped up inside some restaurant with a bunch of people he was unfamiliar with.

If Xiao was being honest, the restaurant itself still was not something he particularly enjoyed. Not because he disliked the service or the other people who ate there, but because he wasn’t a huge fan of their food being an adeptus and all. However, you raved about it all the time and got super happy whenever you got the chance to go, especially if it was with him. Xiao could never bring himself to say he didn’t enjoy it when it made you so happy.

“So, have you done anything super interesting lately?” you excitedly asked your boyfriend, eagerly awaiting his weekly stories.

“Not really. I went to the Chasm recently, but I was unable to find what I was seeking,” he answered and nodded at you, “What about you?”

“I went to this really cute tea shop the other day with Yun Jin! You know, my friend from the opera we saw last year? They had the cutest cups and the tea was so good. We should go together some day!”

Xiao smiled ever so slightly as you spoke, not even focused on the food on his plate, but instead entirely focused on you, “That sounds nice.”

You went back and forth for around thirty more minutes, updating each other on the week, laughing about silly jokes you heard from Hu Tao, and talking about some future plans. Xiao had barely touched his food, but you hadn’t noticed with how caught up with him you were.

Nor had you noticed the snickering behind you.

“Oh my god, is that the Yaksha?”

“I think it is!”

“Woah he’s kinda hot, what’s he doing with a person like that?”

“I know right!”

It was hard for Xiao not to hear them, and he really wished he hadn’t. Of course he wanted to defend his relationship, but he always hated how people seemed to stare at the two of you.

Polar opposites.

To be clear, you were not the one that made him feel insecure, but rather the thoughts in his head. Xiao already had such a hard time believing someone like you could even like someone like him. You were so happy and cheerful and brought the best out in him. Xiao didn’t feel like he deserved you at all, not when he is the way he is.

Insecurity and all, it didn’t stop him from glaring past your shoulder. The more they talked, the worse he heard about you. It was like all they could talk about was your personality and how much it seemed like you didn’t deserve him. How you “couldn’t seem to shut up,” or “wipe the smile off your face.” Or that you “probably had to pay him to date someone like you.”

Xiao was already seething, but what set him off the most was when one of them made a comment about wanting to physically hurt you to take your smile away.

“Xiao?” You shot up out of your seat when he suddenly teleported away from you. When you turned around, you found him at the table behind you.

His hands were grabbing a guy by his shirt collar, holding him up into the air until he began to choke, “Shut your mouth before I shut it for you.”

The guy rapidly nodded up and down. Meanwhile, the two girls at the same table were gawking at the scene in front of them until one of them began yelling for Xiao to put the guy down.

“Stop it! You’re hurting him!” She screamed out.

“You said you wanted to hurt my partner. I am only returning the favor,” he said calmly before slamming the guy to the floor and walking to the girls behind him, “leave before I do something worse.”

Your jaw dropped as you watched the scene play out in front of you. Within seconds, the three of them had scrambled away. Xiao walked back over calmly and sat down. You were still stood up in your seat, confused at what had just occurred, “What the hell was that!”

“They were not saying nice things about you.”

Your eyes widened. You were happy he had defended you, but concerned for the consequences that could follow, “You can’t just go beating up random people like that, you could get in trouble!”

“That does not concern me. Any one that says anything bad about you does not deserve to be in your presence.”

“Xiao…” your voice softened, unable to think of anything to say. You knew he was protective, but it was rare for you to see that side of him up close and in person.

His hand gestured to the table, “Now please sit. I would like to hear more about your week.”

[safination]

Partners in Death…And Life

Part 4: The Radio Stars’ Co-host Just Wants To Do The Dishes

|Part 3: Not Everything You Hear From the Radio Should be Trusted| Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You| |Masterlist| Ao3| Taglist| Parings: Alastor x wife! Reader. Tags: fem!reader established relationships, hopefully not but just in case ooc!Alastor (I'm trying my best, guys) Reader is in hell for a reason, Warnings: Very brief dissection of the human body. Kidneys Summary: After a seven-year absence, you find the man you were married to in life, not only back in town, but also helping... *checks notes*... the Princess of Hell run a hotel aimed at rehabilitating sinners who were sent to the bad place for a reason. It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me. I am sorry :D. These past *checks notes* three weeks (yikes) have been really busy for me. But I’m finally posting?

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The light from the bus stop illuminates Alastor’s block handwriting. Smiles are drawn on the edges of note with different colored ballpoint pens. Dear God, it was like looking at kindergarten art, but you appreciate it nonetheless. Alastor’s instructions tell you that his house is a ten-minute walk from the bus stop.

You flip the note, studying the map Alastor drew.

A bird caws from the patches of trees across the road. There’s no living soul out here besides your own for miles.

You tighten your grip on the straps of your bag, and walk until you find yourself standing before a wooden gate. The hatch unlocks easily, and you hike up the path until you’re stepping on to the porch.

Alastor’s house isn’t much—well, it’s much more than the tiny apartment in the city that you call home, but besides that, he has a very normal looking house. You don’t know why you expect anything different. The flowers on his windowsill brighten the place, and the rocking chairs by the edge makes it homier.

You smoothen your hair, fiddling with the note. A deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another deep inhale, and then another—

Fuck it. You knock on the door.

A beat passes, and then another beat passes, and then another. Oh God, did he not hear your knock? Should you knock again? Your father always said that it was rude to knock twice, but you’re sure the knock should have been heard. Alastor was probably at the back of the house. You’re just going to knock again.

Alastor swings the door open, smiling at you. “You are right on time!”

Soft music plays behind him. The lights inside make his living-room look warm. “You said to be here by eight  . . .  so  . . .  Here I am!” you say with a light laugh. It doesn’t come out as you hope. “I’m very fond of being punctual.” Okay . . . hmmm . . . why did you say that?

You smoothen your hair, and fiddle with the straps of your bag.

 “I admire punctuality.” Alastor smiles at you.

You smile back.

He opens the door wider. “Would you like to come in?”

‘Yes.’

‘Right.’

‘Of course I would!’

All proper responses to his question. It’s a shame you don’t say them. You reach into your bag instead, and shove a paper bag into his arms. “It’s raw.”

Alastor lifts the paper bag, studying it with careful eyes until they flicker to the wet patches at the bottom. “ . . . I’m almost afraid to ask who it came from.”

You step through the door, and take off your coat. “My father, actually.”

Alastor tilts his head. “This is your father—am I supposed to cook him or something?”

“It’s venison!” you say, and run your hand through your hair. “Dad went hunting last week, and he gave me a bunch of meat and well . . . well, I thought you'd appreciate it more than I do. There’s too much for me to eat alone. And it’s always polite to give a gift when you’re visiting a home.”

Alastor secures your gift around his arms, and takes your coat. He’s smiling. You think he’s being genuine—you can’t really tell. “Thank you.”

He hangs your coat on the rack, and ushers you deeper inside his home. Alastor disappears into what you think is his kitchen, but you stay planted in his living-room floor. His house is nice for someone who lives alone. Things all have a place, they’re not necessarily organized, but it’s neat. It makes you smile.

It’s easy to see Alastor between the walls.

This is a home that’s been lived in. You count at least three portable radios in the living-room alone. There are books on the coffee table by the window, and the spines are creased as if it’s been read over and over and over again.

There’s a chair next to the window as well. It has stains, and the cushions sink as if they’ve been loved for decades. You can practically see Alastor in that chair, a warm drink in his hand. He’ll reach across, and twist the knob of the radio that already has his favorite station tuned.

Alastor strides out of the kitchen, your gift probably inside his freezer. “Follow me,” he says with a wave of his arm. “I have something to show you.”

“Oh . . . okay.”

There are photo frames lining the wall of his stairs.

You observe it as you follow deeper into this house. Some are photographs of what you’re going to assume is Alastor, and some are certificates. You don’t have time to poke around and read each and every one of them.

Alastor opens his arms, shaking them as he presents you with a door.

A single door . . . One door at the back of the house. A door you don’t know where it will lead.

You stare at him, and take one single step back. “You’re not going to kill me in your basement, right?”

Alastor laughs at you, wiping a tear for the sake of showing you. “Good heavens no! Why would you ever think that?”

“Because I’m inside a man’s house, and he’s currently leading me to the basement. A man, might I add, dumps bodies in the forest,” you tell him with a wonky smile. “I hope you don’t go around asking every lady to your murder basement.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“My goodness, you really know how to make a lady feel extra special.” You fiddle with the straps of your bag, tightening your grip to stifle the urge to smoothen your hair. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Alastor tilts his head. (It’s kind of cute.) “Do what?”

“You know . . . uh . . . . You’ll  tell me to run,” you say, then motion to the china vase behind. “Then I’ll grab this really nice and expensive looking vase and smash it over your head.”

“Please don’t.”

“And then I’ll make a run for the door.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You weren’t interested in running last time.”

“And I’m still not,” you say. “So there’s no point in killing me.”

He chuckles a bit and his glasses slide down his nose. He pushes it up. “Think of this as a gift! Or more like an offer of partnership.”

“A gift of death?”

“I've already told you I wasn’t planning on killing you anymore,” he says, sighing. “Just . . . just follow me, and you’ll see!”

You huff and cross your arms. “I detest being lied to.”

Alastor opens the basement door. The hinges creak. It appears as if darkness itself lives inside, swirling and eating up whatever light that passes through. “Yes, that’s good to know.”

You take another step back. “That’s a really creepy basement.”

“You haven’t even been inside yet,” Alastor says. He places a light hand on your back, practically pushing you down. “Now, now, don’t be so stubborn.”

You grab the door frames, and push against him to resist. “I’m not going without knowing what’s down there.”

Alastor presses on your back. “If you go down there and see what I’ve prepared, you will feel very silly for causing such a ruckus.”

You push back harder, using the door frames as support. “As first dates go, this is giving really mixed signals,” you say, trying to smile. “I hope you don’t treat all ladies like this.”

Alastor rolls his eyes. “Just the stubborn ones.”

You and Alastor are at a stalemate. He pushes. You push back. The classic dilemma of an unmovable force versus an immovable object. “If you kill me, I will haunt you,” you say, digging your feet into the wooden floors. “I will haunt you, and hide all your tacky bow ties.”

Alastor stops pushing, and you fumble backwards from the lack of his opposing force. He points his nose to the air, straightening his bow ties. “It is not.”

You frown at him. “Oh . . . I’m really sorry.”

“You should be.”

Taking this opportunity, you press against the wall like a hissing cat. “I’m sorry you actually believe that!”

Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes one deep breath. He strides to you, and the world goes upside-down when he flips you over his shoulder. Alastor carries you like a common sack of worthless potatoes.

“I really don’t like this!” you shriek, angling your head to glare at him. Alastor has a surprisingly really nice back. Like . . . a really, really nice back.

Alastor meets your eyes and smirks. “You’ll like it in a second.”

He tightens his grip around your hips, and his boney shoulders dig into your stomach. You keep your eyes ahead. “You have a really flat butt.”

He pauses for a second. “Stop looking at it.”

“I will do as I please,” you say with a huff, and go limp in his hold as you accept your fate. “It’s just all pointy. Maybe some squats will be helpful?”

“If it’s such a horror to you, stop ogling my buttocks like a pervert.”

“Now you’re just putting words into my mouth,” you say with a weird giggle. “These pants suit you well.”

He shakes you like a wet noodle. “I will drop you.”

“Please don’t.”

Alastor flips you, and your feet land safely on the ground. His basement is totally not creepy, totally not creepy at all. The fluorescent light bulb swaying around totally does not add to general horror. The blacked-out windows, and the spiderwebs on the wood make you not want to sprint to the top.

The cadaver bag on the table makes you stay.

It’s filled. You walk to the table, and observe the lump. Grasping the zipper, you pull it until the face of a dead man greets you. He’s fresh. Killed less than a day ago.

Alastor opens his arms, wide, as if to present to you. “Your studying can all be done right here!”

You stare at him, accepting the smile that creeps on your face. “Really?” you say, and trace this man’s nose with your fingers—his skin is cold. He is cold and dead, and full of organs you can poke around and observe. “You’re going to just allow me to dissect this body?”

Alastor smiles at you. “See?” he says. “You were making all the fuss, and now your smile could light up this very room.”

The laughter starts as a soft giggle that builds into excited glee. “I could kiss you right now.”

Alastor takes a step back. “Please don’t”

You roll your eyes then observe the person lying on this table. He wasn’t as big as the one before. This man still has the colors on his face, a bit pale, but he looks like he could just be in a sickly sleep. “Did you like this person?”

“Not at all,” he says. “He’d be alive if he was.”

“Then do you like me?” you say with a grin, placing a hand on your hips. “All this to get my attention, I see. I prefer being dined first, but not the worst first date I’ve ever been on.”

Alastor glares at you as he makes a face. “Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

“So quick to answer that it’s almost insulting,” you say. “Well, it was your decision to keep me alive.”

There’s a glint in his eyes that pierces your very core. The lightbulb makes a shadow pass over his eyes, and you swear his eyes glow. Every single cell in your body screams as Alastor looks down at you from his glasses with a smile and darkened brown eyes that match his well-kept brown hair. “And I’m currently debating my choice,” he says. “I do not like being mocked. I can still change my mind if I find you a weak link.”

“Oh . . . I . . . oh . . . .,” you say dumbly, coughing a little bit.  The words aren’t doing their job.

“Do you understand me?”

Basements are supposed to be cold—you definitely don’t feel cold right now. “I’m sure you can—I don’t doubt that at all.” To break your gaze on him, you turn to the dead man between you and Alastor. “This man didn’t suffer.”

Alastor’s eyebrows raise. “And?”

“I’m not a total idiot when it comes to . . .  uh . . .  hunting,” you say, tilting the dead guy’s chin to see his neck. It was a bit stiff. “There’s a single deep slice on his neck. He was probably still high on adrenaline when you killed him, but with the other body, you took your time. That guy suffered—this one didn’t”

He crosses his arms. “I don’t see your point.”

“Nevermind . . . just . . . ,” you start and smile a bit. “Thank you for preserving this body so well, but unfortunately, I think I’ll have to refuse.”

Alastor’s eye twitches as he takes a step closer to you. His shadow towers over you. “You’re refusing?”

You zip the man back into his bag. “You don’t need a partner,” you say. “If anything, bringing him back into your house is risky. If it’s my silence you want, you already have it. There’s no need for all this.”

“I never asked for your silence.”

“Yet it’s yours nonetheless,” you say. “Thank you for the gift or offer for partnership, but I’m not interested in going into business with you.”

“Is this not beneficial for you?”

“It is . . . it really is, and every fiber wants to give in but it’s not wise for me to get mixed up with you,” you tell him. “I think you’re mistaking my sin for gluttony. I know trouble when I see it, and I’m not afraid to flee from it.”

Alastor’s face twists as his smile turns into a snarl. “All you could ever want right here.”

“You obviously want something from me,” you say. “I know you’re not above using tricks to get what you want. Although, I don’t understand why you take such time out of your day to do such consuming things.”

He glares at you. “There’s always the chance that you’d say no,” he says. “And I can’t have that happen.”

“I decide if something is worth my time or not,” you say. “I will only ask once: what do you want from me?”

Alastor exhales, and pushes his glasses. “I’d like to watch you work. There’s something I want to confirm.”

You study him for a second. “That’s all?”

“Yes.”

“Then hand me a pack of gloves please,” you say. “I can show you all the things I’ve learned.”

Alastor tosses gloves to your face. It whacks you and lands on the table. You curse at him, and roll your eyes.

There’s a large container of formaldehyde under the table. You don’t know where he got it or how, but still, you take a stray brush forgotten on one of the tables, and brush the skin with chemicals. The sharp smell stings your eyes, but you’ve learned to tolerate it. Alastor scrunches his nose, taking a step back.  

Opening the window would probably be wise, but you could do that later. Your father always did hope that you’d grow out of your bad habit. But with such an exhilarating opportunity, caution is at the back of your mind.

The scapple fits into your palm as if it was made for you. Throughout this Earth, no . . .  not just Earth, but Heaven and Hell as well, nothing will ever be as perfect.

Alastor laughs, not the breathy and light kind, but in a loud and triumphant way. His eyes bulge out, looking like they could pop out any second “It seems I was not wrong,” he says. “You have the most precious smile I have ever seen.”

“Okay?”

Alastor leans closer to you, jerking your chin to face him. “All this time I’ve seen you; I have never seen your smile as true and honest as now.”

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The bristles of the brush tangle on your feathers. It’s a struggle to smoothen the feathers at the back of your head now that you live alone.

The clock strikes an hour past noon, and work will call for you soon. It would be nice to be one time if this motherfucking brush would do its fucking job! You tug on the handle, cursing when it jerks your scalp. The smack of your forehead on the vanity table echoes around the room. The feathers bundled on the floor make you screech. That’s it. It’s over. You are not taking another second of this.

Discarding the brush, you head to the kitchen.

You grab two mugs, and take two spoonful of coffee ground and feed it to the coffee machine. With only a press of a button, you make the most perfectly perfected perfect cup of coffee. You take both mugs and take a seat on that little side table inside the kitchen.

The second mug steams with coffee.

You plop your chin on the table, unable to draw your eyes aways as you stare at it. Making a second cup is a waste of your money. Deep down to your very core, you’re aware that it’s a waste. It strikes you with the gentleness of a plane crash every single morning you make it, and every single night you have to throw it away.

Silence is your companion in this empty house. Where are the days when soft music plays on the radio? Where are the days where light footsteps walk around the carpeted floors? Where are the days of stories over dinner?  These days watching television is the only way to fill that silence.

A knock breaks your pathetic moping.

The knocking starts out soft and hesitant, until it’s replaced with loud banging.

Swiping your mug from the table, you stride to the front door and swing it open. Charlie and Alastor stand in front of you, big smiles on their faces.

Your husband pushes a small ugly statue right up your face, presenting it to you with a self-satisfied smile. “I was told it was polite to bring a gift to a person’s home,” Alastor says. “Do you like it?”

“Oh no . . . ,” Charlie says, frowning a bit. “I didn’t bring anything.”

Alastor places a hand on her shoulder. “No worries then! This gift shall be from the both of us.”

The mug slips from your hold. Charlie catches it, not a single drop spilling, and plops it back on your hand. You blink at Alastor and frown. “Why are you knocking?”

“We’re here on super serious business talk,” he says, wrapping an arm around Charlie’s shoulders to bring her closer. “Charlotte here has something to ask you.”

Charlie smiles. “Just Charlie, actually.”

You shake your head, tightening your grip on the mug. “No.”

Alastor tilts his head. “No?”

“No, this is your home,” you say, opening the door wider. “There’s no need to knock.”

Alastor and Charlie step inside, and you take a sip of your coffee—a long, drawn out sip. Alastor walks to the shelf nearest the door, placing your ugly little statue on the shelf that’s meant for all other ugly knickknacks. It blends in with all the other gifts Alastor’s given you.

Charlie’s eyes bounce around the walls, eyes wide as she looks around. “Wooooaaaaah,” she says. “This is a really nice house you guys have!”

Alastor glares at the television. “Why, thank you!” he says. “I put in a lot of care into how it looks. It seems you’ve redecorated—I don’t like it.”

“Oh, you never do,” you say. “Let’s move to the kitchen, shall we?”

Alastor’s ears straighten. “The kitchen?” he echoes. “Oh yes. Let’s go the kitchen.”

Alastor hooks his arms around yours, pulling you to the kitchen. There’s determination set in each step. You and Charlie take your seats by the kitchen table. Charlie continues to look around. You see it in her eyes as they flicker around to count each radio.

It seems you’ve made a mistake.

Alastor goes straight to the refrigerator, and swings it open.

With horror, you watch as his gaze observes each level meticulously, humming as he does. There’s not much to look at, considering the only thing inside are a couple of eggs, empty plastic containers that you’ve been too lazy to wash, last week’s takeout, and a couple of sauces and condiments.

When he finally closes it, your shoulders sink as you exhale . . . until, of course , Alastor wraps his fingers around the freezer’s handle.

“Would you like anything, Charlie?” Is the first thing that comes out of your mouth. “I think we have juice or lemonade—”

“We don’t have any of those,” Alastor says, and his gaze bears down on you. “It makes me wonder what will be inside our freezer, my love.”

Charlie smiles brightly. “I don’t need anything,” she says. “I had tea with Rosie this morning, and Alastor and I had lunch on the way here.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” you say, chuckling nervously. “You know what? It’s such a hellish day today, and it would be a waste to spend it here. Why don’t we move to the garden?”

“No.” Alastor crosses his arm. “We are staying right here.”

You sulk in your seat, drooping a little. “ . . . okay.”

Finally, Alastor opens the freezer door. His twitching eyes and pursed lips tell you everything you need to know about how the next fifteen minutes will go. Carefully, with the tips of his fingers, Alastor pulls out one of those microwave meals you buy at the grocery. He glares at the frozen chicken nuggets and pork cutlets, and all the processed frozen food you store there for easy meals.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say, giving him your most innocent smile. “And I barely eat those anyway. Those microwaved meals are just there for the occasional meal, I swear!”

Without uttering a single word, Alastor opens the cabinet under the sink where the trash can stays, and pulls it out. Empty microwave meals fill the brim. He raises his eyebrows at you.

“Oh dear . . . ” Charlie winces. “That’s a lot, even for me.

You sulk deeper into your chair.

Alastor inspects the cabinets above the sink. The only things that greet him are a bunch of pots and pans. Relief pours into you . . . until of course, Alastor grabs the largest pot at the back of the cabinet and opens it, smashing any sense of relief with a metal bat.

Alastor pulls out a large pack of instant noodles. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asks. “I remember telling you that I don’t like you eating these.”

“But they’re delicious,” you say, pouting a bit.

“These aren’t healthy,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They’re full of chemicals!”

“Everything is full of chemicals!” you counter. “And I only had a few. The dosage makes the poison.”

Alastor opens the trash can and tosses what was supposed to be your dinner. “The plastic said it was a pack of twelve?”

You cross your arms. “And? I don’t see your point.”

“There’s only two left.”

You fiddle with the handle of your mug. “I . . . I was busy . . . ?”

“We’re all busy,” he says and you could pick out the faintest sound of static. “Not a single fresh fruit or vegetable, or any proper meats. Have I taught you nothing?”

Your pout deepens. “Do we have to do this in front of Charlie, my deerest?”

Charlie raises her arms in surrender. “Don’t look at me,” she says. “Aren’t you a doctor?”

“Yes, one would think . . . .,” Alastor trails off. His eyes land on the second mug of coffee on the table, and his neck tilts to angle until it snaps. Static scratches that air until it warps. His eyes darken to reveal radio dials. “Expecting a guest today?”

You blink at him a bit dumbly, and take a long and drawn-out sip of your coffee to try and compose yourself. It doesn’t work. “I don’t make coffee for guests.”

Charlie panics a bit. “There, there Alastor,” she says. “No need to get all crazy!”

Alastor’s antlers grow. “I’m aware you don’t. So, who is it for?”

“Oh . . . .” Dumbly blinking at him continues, and the words don’t seem to be doing their job.

Alastor leans closer, his voice morphing a bit. “I’d appreciate an answer, my love.”

“It's yours,” you find yourself saying. “ . . . If you want it, that is.”

He blinks at you. You blink at him. Charlie blinks at the both of you.

Gone are the growing antlers, and the static that buzzes your skin. Alastor stands before you with that never ending smile, perfectly normal—well, as normal as he can be. “You weren’t aware I’d be visiting.”

You frown at him. “It’s not a visit if it’s your own home.”

“I didn’t tell you I’d be coming home,” he says. “Why make one for me?”

The heat on your face makes you turn away. “Just take it, deerest.”

“Taste lovely as always!” he says, taking a swig. Your frown turns into a soft smile as your watch him drink. “But don’t think you’re getting away from this conversation.”

“It really isn’t my fault.”

“Oh, really now?” Alastor raises his eyebrows. “I’m positive I taught you how to cook nutritious dishes.”

You flick the mug, and a soft clink echoes a bit. “I still cook proper food for myself,” you tell him, showing him your saddest smile. “But . . . I find myself hating the dishes.”

Alastor twirls his microphone, and it strikes the ground with a soft thunk. “And you think saying this will get you off the hook?”

You stick your tongue out. “Is it working?”

Alastor sighs at you, and turns to the ticking clock. “We’re wasting time—go talk to Charlotte.”

Charlie smiles awkwardly. “Just Charlie, actually.”

With a triumphant smile, you turn to Charlie. “So,” you begin, “what business are we going to talk about today?”

It’s Charlies turn to sulk into the kitchen chair. “Extermination is a month away,” she says. “And Adam is heading straight to the hotel first! It’s just one bad event after another because Heaven refuses to listen, and I’m running out of options.”

Alastor steps behind you. Suddenly, a brush combs through the back of your feathers, smoothing those parts of your head that you’ve never been able to reach by yourself.  Sometimes, you think Hell gave you feathers so someone could brush it for you. A part of you warms at the fact that you didn’t even need to ask your husband to smoothen your feathers. It’s a job he’s been doing since you first spawned in hell, and it seems it’s work he’s keen on continuing.

“Extermination,” you echo. “I love the extermination. There are so many desperate and poor souls who want to keep their limbs. I get rather busy—prime deal making opportunities right there.”

Charlie winces a bit. “Oh dear . . . um . . . okay. That sounds fun? And a little violent.”

Alastor speaks up from behind you, still running a brush through your feathers. “We can from Cannibal Town! Charlie was able to convince Rosie’s people to take arms.”

“Then, what brings you to me?” you ask, stiffening your back as you try not to lean into the brush that combs through your feathers. Alastor always was better at preening you. “I’m not much of a fighter.”

“Alastor suggested that I ask for your help,” Charlie says. “He said you’re one of the few people who knows how to fix wounds that come from Angelic Weapons.”

You bat your eyes at Alastor. “Spilling all my secrets, I see.”

Alastor glides the brush over your hair, leaning close to your ear. “Oh, not everything.”

You laugh and glance at Charlie. “In front of a guest, my deer?”

Charlie cringes with the most hilarious frown.

“It’s just a matter of counteracting the holiness of their weapons,” you say, clearing your throat. “After that, it’s purely medical.”

“How is that even possible?”

Alastor trails through your feathers, and it tingles and flutters. You keep your expression emotionless. “I’m surprised you don’t know this,” you say. “Did Belphegor never tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Well, eons ago, Belphegor found out that angelic weapons are considered holy, and that’s very bad for a Sinner,” you explain. “So, she and a bunch of her team found out that if you cut off the holy site or embed a large amount of Sinner energy, one will be able to treat it.”

Alastor leans closer, butting into the conversation. “I prefer it when you cut it off.”

“Of course you do,” you say with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Embedding the wounds with your magic takes too much energy from you, and because of that you always come home to me with sunken eyes. That is, if you don’t pass out before you reach the front door,” Alastor tells you. “I don’t understand why you go out of your way when they’re not worthy.”

“Worthy?”

“Yes, worthy,” he says. “Had they been competent, they wouldn’t need to go to you in the first place. It only proves that they’re weak.”

You smile at his words. “I guess I never thought of it that way.

Charlie rolls her eyes at the both of you. “So, you could help us?”

You twist, turning to Alastor. “I think you’ve gotten all my feathers straightened out,” you say. “My love, can you do me a favor?”

Lightly, Alastor taps your head with the tip of his cane. “Of course, how can I help?”

“I think the plants need some watering.”

The brush on Alastor’s hand dissolves with a poof. He leans closer once again, trailing your cheek with his finger until they hook on your chin. He captures you with his stare, and you allow him to trap you. He presses his lips on your cheek, and disappears into his shadow.

You take an even longer sip of your coffee.

Charlie massages her forehead, eyes twitching. “Dear Satan, it’s like watching my parents all over again! I can leave, you know,” she says, snorting. “Give you two a little privacy?”

“Oh, don’t bother,” you tell her. “There wouldn’t be enough time.”

Her brows furrow. “Time?”

“After all, extermination is in a month,” you say, brightening your smile. “We’re going to need at least two.”

“ What the fuuuuck,. ” Charlie whispers underneath her breath, her voice a pitch higher.

“Every couple of years, there will be certain seasons where it takes six!” you say. “Sinner bodies are just so exhilarating.”

Charlie chokes on her spit, and her eyes bulge. “Are you serious?”

“Hmmm, I could be—who knows?” You raise your mug to toast, and take a drink.

“You’re joking,” Charlie says. “ . . . Right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“My dear, is that a question you would want an answer to?” you ask. “Would you be prepared if the answer happens to be no ?”

Charlie sinks deeper into her chair. “Okay, then! Moving on, now.”

Leaning on your palm, you laugh. “My deerly beloved husband wouldn’t give all this information for free,” you say. “What did he ask for?”

“We made a deal.”

Your hands drop to the table. “Oh Charlotte,” you say. “That was a foolish mistake. You don’t know what Alastor does to the so—“

“I still have my soul!” Charlie exclaims, balling her fist. “From Vaggie! From you—his own wife! I did what I needed to do to keep my people safe . . . Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be so reliant on Alastor,” you tell her with a small smile. “You can’t trust him.”

“He’s given me no reason no to trust him, and . . . ,” Charlie trails off. “And Alastor is my friend.”

Your smile brightens a bit. “Friend?”

“Yes?” Charlie says. “Everyone at the hotel is my friend, and he’s been a tremendous help.”

You place your hands over Charlies and give it a squeeze. “Convince me to help you.”

“W-what?”

“Alastor isn’t asking me to go play medic in the middle of a warzone.” Your brush your feathers out of your face. “If he was asking, I would say yes without a second thought because that’s who we are, but he isn’t asking me, Charlie, you are.”

Charlie hums, placing a finger on her lips as she thinks. “I heard from Angel that you and Alastor got married whe—“

CRASH!

She grips the table, eyes wide as she looks around. “What was that?”

You take a long and drawn-out sip of coffee, contemplating your choice for marriage. “Nothing to be worried about,” you say. “That was just my television.”

“Your Tv?” Charlie frowns a bit. “Did . . . did Alastor just throw away your Tv?”

You laugh, swatting your hand in the air. “Not at all!” you say. “It probably tripped out my window—those picture boxes are always so clumsy.”

Charlie raises her eyebrows. “You’re saying that your Tv . . . just tripped out the window.”

You smile at her. “You were saying something?”

She sighs, massaging her forehead. “You got married when you were alive, but continue to stay together. It’s very rare for Sinners to do such a thing,” she says. “And with all of that . . . uh . . . Alastorness.”

“It’s alright, you can just say bat-shit crazy.”

“I’d prefer not to,” she says with an awkward laugh. “So, how were you able to stay together for so long

“Are you . . . ,” you trail off, blinking. “Are you asking me for relationship advice?”

“A bit? If that’s okay,” she says. “Rosie already helped but, well, she did eat her first husband.”

“I don’t think I can be of much help.” Your lips purse. “Alastor and I don’t exactly have the most conventional marriage.”

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1927

“Do you like it?” Alastor offers you a spoonful of the simmering sauce.

You lean closer, shifting from your seat on his kitchen counter. Alastor dips the spoon in your opened mouth. “It’s spicy,” you say, lips twisting when you cough. “Is it supposed to be like that?”

Alastor tilts his head. A lock of his hair falls to the side. “No . . . it’s not.” He takes back the spoon and dips it into the pan. Alastor coughs as soon as it hits his tongue. “How many peppers did you add?”

Your legs sway, and the heels of your foot tap the cabinets below you. “I added what was written on the recipe! Exactly twelve peppers.”

Alastor twists the stove’s knob, killing the fire. “Take a look at the notebook again,” he says and reaches over your legs, grabbing his book full of recipes. “If you use these things called ‘eyes’ and ready, you’d be able to see that it says, ‘one to two’!”

“No, it does not!” you huff, grabbing the notebook from him. You read through the list of ingredients. There, near the bottom, pass the four cloves of chopped garlic, half a shallot, and a pinch of pepper, ‘one to two peppers’ is scribbled with blocky letters. “Oh . . . that’s my bad. Yeah, that’s on me.”

Alastor adjusts his sleeves, pulling it back up his forearm. (Hmm, not a bad look.) “There’s no point in teaching you how to cook this if you don’t know how to read!” he says, eyes twitching. “Go . . . Just go over there and let me fix this.”

“I already said I was sorry!”

“No, you did not!” Alastor says, throwing his hands into the air. “What you said was,‘Oh . . . that’s my bad. Yeah, that’s on me’, actually.”

“Yeah, that’s on me,” you repeat with a snort. “That’s my bad.”

“Get out of my kitchen before you ruin dinner.” He leans on the counter, crossing his arms. You hum to yourself. Alastor should pull his sleeves up more. “Go set the table or something. And wash your hair when you get home—it smells like chemicals.”

With a huff, you do as you're told.

You slide off his counter, opening the cabinet and grab two bowls with one arm and reach for the table placemats with the other.

Two sets of utensils, glass cups, and paper napkins. It’s one more set than what you prepare when you’re at your own home. Two . . . Two. It’s becoming quite the word in your vocabulary.

There’s a proper table waiting to be used in the other room, but this smaller one you’re setting, with its fraying edges and turmeric stains suit the both of you much better.

Three ice-cubes bobble at the top of Alastor’s water. It’s how he likes it. It’s funny. You don’t remember Alastor disclosing this particular information. It’s just something you noticed one day, and you’ve never stopped noticing. What else have you unconsciously learned about him, and what have you unconsciously taught him about you?

Alastor walks to the table, a large steaming bowl in his hands. He places it between the bowls, and you reach into the drawer for a ladle.

The taste tingles your tongue. It’s good. Better than anything you could possibly make for yourself.

You reach into your pocket and toss a handkerchief at Alastor’s face. It lands on between his hair. He tilts his head, shaking it, and the cloth slides on the table. “It’s yours,” you tell him, taking a spoonful of your food. “Thanks for dinner.”

Alastor studies how his name is embroidered in near letters, thumbing the music notes framing it. “Dinner was a way to thank you for this week’s meat.”

He tosses back the handkerchief. It smacks your face.

You peel it from your skin, and trace the letters you’ve threaded during your very scarce free time. “I can’t go around with a handkerchief that has your name on it.”

His smile widens. “Why not?”

“People would think I’m a fan.” You hand Alastor the handkerchief this time. “Just take it as a gift then.”

Alastor takes it from you, and places it into his pocket.

You hum into your spoon with a pleased smile. “Hey Al,” you say. “Tell me what you did today.”

Alastor takes his time chewing and swallowing his food. “As you can see,” he tells you, “I’m eating.”

“I’m bored,” you say. “Eat while you talk.”

He reaches across the table, and his fingers catch on the knob of the radio to turn it on.

Classical music plays out of the speaker. It was correct to assume that Alastor pre-sets radios to play his favorite stations. Although, you didn’t imagine that each of his many radios would have their own specific station. A different radio for different stations. You questioned Alastor about it, but he didn’t say much.

Once the bottom of the bowls has been scraped into your stomachs, you take the dishes and go to the sink.

Your nose scrunches at the sight of the piled dishes. Alastor watches you with a smile. You turn away when you notice.

Alastor takes a container from the cabinet above your head. He’s warm. Always warm.

He takes two containers, placing the leftovers inside. And there it is again, that word—Two. Not one, but two. One for him. One for you. You didn’t ask for leftovers. You’ve never asked at all. Alastor will just hand you the container like it’s the most automatic thing in this world for him to do.

You take the first of many bowls, and rinse the stubborn pieces with your hands. “There’s too many dishes,” you say. “It’s like you have one for every ingredient. Did you really need to use separate ones for each and every ingredient we used?”

He leans on the counter, slotting himself next to you.  “I don’t like mixing the flavors until it’s time to add them.”

Alastor adjusts his pulled sleeves and crosses his arms.

The bowl slips from your grip.

“Oh . . . I . . . uh . . . sorry,” you say, picking up the bowl. “I mean, you really didn’t need one for the salt and pepper. They already come in containers—why couldn’t you just, I don’t know, eyeball it?”

“Eyeball it?”

“Yeah, or feel it with your soul or something,” you say and pick up the measuring spoons to show him. “You had to measure three pinches of salt instead of actually just pinching it.”

Alastor laughs, and strands of his hair slide down to his eyes. “And how did it taste?”

Your shoulders slump when you sigh. “Good.”

He bumps his shoulders with yours. “That’s just the way I was taught.”

“Well,” you start, “your way creates more dishes for me to clean.”

Alastor pivots from the counter, and takes his place in front of the second sink. He grabs the dish you’ve already rinsed and sponges it with soap. It’s quite the system you’ve created. You grab a dirty dish, rinse it, and pass it on to Alastor who cleans it with a sponge.

The next minute goes something like this:

Alastor flicks water at your face. You ignore it.

Flick. Ignore.

Flick. Ignore.

Flick. Ignore.

The water damps your hair. You kick his leg. “Stop that.”

Alastor drenches his hand under the faucet, letting his fingers accumulate water. He flicks it at you.

The grip you have on the plate tightens. “I am going to smash this on your head.”

Alastor raises his eyebrows. He glares. You glare back. He cups his hand under the faucet like a bowl. The water pools between his hands. He throws the water at you. It hits your eyes, blinding you. That does little to stop you.

You grip the plate, swinging it in his direction.

The plate doesn’t connect with anything . . .  Sadly. You rub the water out your eyes, and find Alastor kneeling on the floor with a triumphant smile.

Alastor stands up, brushing dirt from his pants. “You missed.”

“You ducked.”

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” he says. “What if you actually hit me?”

You pass the plate to Alastor before you scratch the urge to swing at that smug smile of his. “Hey Al,” you say. “Tell me what you did today.”

Alastor closes the faucet. “You always ask me that.”

“That’s because you say it in entertaining ways,” you say. “It’s boring to wash the dishes without something to distract me.”

Alastor soaps the dish. “Your lessening attention span worries me.”

You roll your eyes at him, and flick water at his face. “Please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says. “I find myself having no reason to deny you.”

Alastor’s glasses slide down his nose. He leans close enough for you to smell his perfume. He’s warm—always warm. It takes a second for you to understand. You dry your hands on a stray towel and fix it in place.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1928.

The metal bench cools the back of your neck.

The sun blinds your eyes, but you keep a steady gaze on the afternoon beams. When was the last time you felt the heat of the sun kiss your skin? As the seconds tick by. As the birds fly above you. As the leaves fall from their stem, melting on this bench seems like a heavenly idea.

But as the clock will eventually strike. But as the birds will eventually find their nest. But as the leaves will eventually land. So, too, must you eventually go back to work.

A shadow blocks the sun.

It takes a second for your eyes to adjust. Alastor’s upside-down face smiles at you. “Good morning to you!”

With a yelp, you swing your forehead forward.

Alastor leans backwards, narrowly missing your head by centimeters. “Not the greeting I imagined, but hello to you as well,” he says. “The receptionist said I could find you here.”

You twist, turning to him with a frown. “Are you okay?”

Alastor slides over the bench, and takes the free seat next to you. His legs cross. “Why would I not be, okay?”

There’s some bag slung over his shoulder, but that’s not important right now. Your eyes trail his body. Hair? Fixed. Smile? Wide. Clothes? Perfect. “You’re at a clinic.”

Alastor swats his hand. “I was in the area.”

That classic city stench attacks your nose, but it’s just nice to feel the way your hair sways from the breeze. “You’re not going to kill me, right?”

Alastor nudges his leg with yours. “You say that every single time!”

Your smile turns smug. “I’ll stop saying it when it stops becoming funny.”

Alastor rolls his eyes, showing it off to you. “It never was.”

“It is to me,” you say and wave your hands in the air. “Just imagine this, the great Alastor had to stalk me!”

“I am great, but remind me again,” he begins, propping his arm on the bench to lean on it, “how long did you have to follow me?”

Sighing, you lean your head on the backrest to count the clouds. It’s nice to be able to see actual clouds for once instead of the drawing of children who wait. “ . . . Three months.”

“Exactly,” he says, and you hear the smugness in his words. “And I didn’t need to do any stalking—you led me straight to your house.”

You blow a raspberry at him. “Why are you even here then?”

Alastor props his legs on your lap. You push him off. He brings it back. It’s not worth fighting him right now. “I actually was in the area,” he says, and hands you the bag slung over his shoulder. “The director thought it would be a grand idea to bring the staff out to lunch.”

You unzip the bag, and packed lunch greets you. And there it is again. Two. Two. Two. One for you. One for him. Maybe both for you? “Al, tell me why I’m currently looking at two packed lunches?”

Alastor beams at you, and slides his legs off your lap. “I accidentally cooked too much today,” he said. “I thought it would be a grand idea to share.”

Your frown. “But . . . you already ate.”

“Oh . . . I was already planning on dropping by,” he says. “It was quite the stroke of luck that you’re only taking your break now, and that we happened to have lunch nearby. I thought I’d bring you a treat.”

Questions bubble on your throat. “Thank you, Al,” you say instead. You open the container and take a bite, savoring the taste. “It’s delicious.”

Alastor leans closer, and picks a leaf off your head. “That’s because I actually followed the recipe.”

You point your spoon at him. “That was just that one time!”

He smiles at you, chuckling softly. “Three actually.”

Before the clock strikes, it will tick. Before the birds find their nest, they will fly. Before the leaves hit the ground, it will fall. And before you eventually go back to work, you will eat on this bench, Alastor to your side.

He stares ahead. As you eat, you watch his eyes flicker. It goes from the kid then to a plant then to an old lady. This, you don’t question. You’ve stopped wondering what he could possibly be thinking years ago.

Alastor leans closer to your ear. “Do you see that lady?” he asks, voice low. His breath tickles your skin. “That one over there with the feather on her hat?”

You scan the people around the area, spotting the lady old enough to be your grandmother. A scarf wraps around her neck, despite the sun beaming with the afternoon heat. She lazily walks around. “What about her?”

“Do you think her name could be Edith? She looks like an Edith,” Alastor says. “She probably had three children, and married young when her parents forced her to marry this ugly but rich man she could never love.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. It’s like a mantra that plays in your head. There’s no reason not to play along whatever nonsense he’s spouting. “Sure, why not?”

“But no!” he exclaims into your ear. You jerk away and shove him with an elbow. “Oof . . . .Edith just had to defy all expectations, and she chose to elope with her childhood sweetheart. He’s not the richest man, but they survived.”

“That’s sweet.”

“And to this day,” he says, “everyone still calls her, ‘Edith the Penguin’.”

“Edith the penguin?” you echo. “Now I’m just confused.”

Alastor’s eyes shine. “Because she walks like a penguin with their ass on fire,” he snorts. “Your turn, now.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. And you would love to be brought lunch again.

“Fine.” You place your spoon down, and look around to the first person who grabs your attention. “That little kid over there—His name is Thomas, and he likes balloons.”

Alastor blinks at you. “And?”

You take your time chewing and swallowing your food. “That’s all.”

He gawks at you, and rolls your eyes. “It must be so boring to be you.”

“It is not!” You huff at him, and kick his leg. “I am a very interesting person, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh really, now? Thomas, and he likes balloons?” Alastor says,and points at the kid with twitching eyes. “He’s holding a balloon!”

You wave your arms, the spoon still in your grip. “So, he probably likes it!” you say. “Thomas wouldn’t get a balloon if he didn’t like it.”

“I pity your sense of imagination.”

Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. Alastor brought you lunch. And you would love to be brought lunch again.

You swallow what remains inside the container, and pack it up. “Is this what you do when you zone out as I’m tal—and you’re doing it again, aren’t you?” you say. “You are an incredibly judgmental person.”

“It’s called using my imagination. Something you apparently don’t have,” he says with a snort. “So . . . tell me what you did today.”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “That’s my question.”

Alastor shrugs, taking the closed container and zipping it inside his bag. He hands you a tissue. “Well, I’m asking it now.”

You prop your arm on the bench, leaning on it. Alastor’s hair spikes out in odd places today. It must have quite the trek to the clinic. “I’m not as good a storyteller as you are.”

He props his arms on the bench, mimicking your pose. His eyes stare straight into yours. “ I don’t need a story,” he says. “I just want to know what you did today.”

You press your palm on his face, pushing him away from your face. The sun’s heat is really getting to you. Alastor’s nose crinkles as he rubs it. “Why would you even want to know what I do?”

Alastor props his elbows on his knees, observing the people around him. “You always ask me what I did,” he says. “I want to know if there’s something special about it.:

“There’s nothing special about it,” you tell him. Was there actually? You’re not sure. “I just like knowing, and it always entertains me.”

Alastor meets your eyes with a wide smile. “Then tell me what you did today,” he says. “Entertain me.”

The clock ticks closer. The birds are already close to their nests. The leaves are already floating to the ground. You are already close to going back to work, closer to this moment becoming nothing but a distant memory. “That was my first meal of the day.”

Alastor’s eyebrows furrow and his lips twist into a hard scowl. “That’s not healthy.”

You shut your eyes and sigh. “I never said it was.”

“How would you live without me?”

Remember, Alastor brought you lunch, and it would be nice if he could bring you lunch again. “I’m going to hit you.”

Alastor bumps your knees with his. “Lovely,” he says, and you can hear the smile he’s wearing. “I’m sure it will be very painful because you’re so full of energy right now.”

Eyes still shut, you bump his knees back. “I’ve been busy,” you say. “And don’t roll your eyes at me.”

Alastor hesitates for a second. “First of all, we’re all busy,” he says. “Second, I didn’t roll my eyes.”

“You did—it was audible,” you tell him with a soft chuckle. “Anyway, there’s nothing new with my day. It’s just the usual, people to see, files to file, blood to draw, pee to get on me.”

Alastor digs his finger into your cheek, twisting it as he presses down. “Wow, you really are a horrible storyteller.”

You know what, maybe you don’t need Alastor bringing you lunch. You peek open an eye to stare at him. “I’m going to smash a plate on your head once we start doing the dishes.”

Alastor mashes your cheek like some button. Over and over and over and over again. You swat his hand, and he rubs it with a grimace. “Were you planning on dropping by today?”

You place an arm over your eyes, blocking out the sun. “Will I have to do the dishes?”

“You don’t have to specifically do the dishes.”

You comb through your hair with your fingers. “That wouldn’t exactly be fair to you.”

“If you're so insistent, we can find something else for you to do,” he says. “I mean, if you hate it so much you don’t have to do it.”

“I don’t hate it,” you say with a sigh. A church bell sounds. It echoes through the buildings and through the trees. “Al . . . I’m tired.”

“I know,” he says, and you hear how softly he chuckles. “Your eyes are drooping so low I could fill the entire ocean in them.”

“I want to sleep, Al.”

“I know.”

“I hate this job.”

Alastor pauses for a second, and he bumps his shoulders with yours. “You don’t.”

The clock hasn’t struck yet. The birds haven’t flown to their nests. The leaves haven’t reached the ground. And so too will you stay in this moment of time.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

1929

Footsteps creak on the wooden stairs. The sound is ignored, just like every other thing that isn’t relevant to you.

The dead cadaver under you has weird kidneys. The one on your palm is too small for a kidney that belongs to someone of his size. You take your scalpel, slicing it to observe the cross section.

“It’s time to stop,” Alastor tells you. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. Him and his smile is not important right now. “You’ve been here all night.”

“Leave me alone,” you mumble. The human body continues to be amazing. The medulla is clearly outlined. The colors of its cells were so different from the cortex. “ . . . Kidneys, Alastor. He has weird kidneys. Hehehehe weird kidneys . . . ”

Alastor says your name in a way that forces you to listen.

“ . . . Oh . . . yes?” you say a bit dumbly.

“It’s nightfall,” he says, and the tone of his voice buzzes your skin. “Come on now, do as you're told. Be upstairs in fifteen minutes.”

It’s not an easy task to do as Alastor says, especially when this man’s left kidney is a whole different size from the right. However, with a frown, you slot the kidney from the opened chest cavity, and pack up the body.

You step out of the basement, and walk to the kitchen.

There’s a plate waiting for you on the table. It’s still hot. Muffled music plays from the porch, and you see Alastor’s outline through the windows. Taking your plate, you step out the front door and into the outdoors.

(Something you really need to start seeing more.)

And oh . . . he’s not listening to the radio. Alastor plays the recording of his show. It was a present you got him a few months back.

You take your seat on the matching rocking chair.

Alastor watches you settle into your seat. He turns the volume down. “Tables were invented for a reason.”

The chair rocks when you swing your legs. “It’s nice out here,” you say, and take a bite of vegetables. “The sky is much clearer. It helps that there’s no stench of piss.”

He turns to you with a small smile. “That’s because you live in the city.”

The wind blows your hair into your face. You push it out of the way. “Hey, Al,” you say slowly. “Tell me what you did today.”

“Why should I?”

You lean back into the chair, letting the rocking sway you. “Well, you got home late,” you say. “I had to use my keys.”

Alastor leans back on the chair, using the tips of his shoe to rock himself. “Yes, that was the point of the keys,” he says, humming. “It would be a shame to come home to another broken window.”

The taste of the vegetables mixed with the meat makes you smile in delight. “Are you still holding on to that?”

“Always.”

“I paid you back, eventually,” you tell him, pointing your fork at him. “Why are you still holding a grudge for an honest accident?”

On his cheek , where it’s always been and where it’ll always be, his smile strains. “You expect me to believe that a rock smashing my window was an honest accident.”

You offer him your most innocent smile. “Yes.”

“Well, I hope your windows are much sturdier then,” he says, mimicking your smile. “One of these days, I might cause an accident.”

The stars twinkle in the sky. There’s a vast amount of knowledge those gassy balls hold. Maybe your life would be less horrific if you were interested in the stars instead. “In my defense, you were late.”

Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose. “You couldn’t wait fifteen minutes?”

You take another bite of your meal, and sway happily to do a little dance. “Just . . .  okay? Just tell me what you did before I finish my meal.”

Alastor reaches into his pocket and tosses a keychain at you. It lands between your legs.

You set the plate on the coffee table between you, and hold the keychain to the light. It was a cute, little cartoon alligator. “What’s this?”

“It’s yours.”

“I can tell that much,” you say, twirling the gift between your fingers. “You never give me nice knickknacks. It’s always the ugly ones

Alastor huffs at you. “That doesn’t sound like my problem anymore,” he says. “I thought you would appreciate something that looks halfway decent one and for all.”

“I find the ugly ones really charming, actually. They’re very funny to look at,” you say. “So, where did you get this?”

Alastor clasps his hands, resting it on his stomach as he rocks himself. “Saw an advertisement. Went to the zoo.”

You scrunch your face. “That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“Go finish your meal.”

You pocket his gift, and grab the plate on the table. “Master of storytelling right here, ladies and gentlemen,” you say, barking a laugh. “I figured you would love the excuse of hearing yourself talk.”

Alastor ignores you, reaching for his notepad instead.

You watch Alastor as he writes on his notepad. The breeze sways a strand of his hair. His lips twist when he thinks, just like he’s doing right now

Your eyes fall on your plate, to where vegetables and meat were carefully tossed together. Alastor cooked today—he always cooks.

When you finish, you’ll grab the plates, and begin the mountain of dishes. Even when dish soap stings your fingers, even when the feeling of wet food grosses you, and even when thousands of dirty dishes wait for you . . . it’s something you don’t mind.

Once this meal is finished, you and him will step inside. He’ll properly tell you about his day, and you’ll take the pan and scrub it.

Ah . . . there it is again. That word—Two.

But it’s not two of anything. It’s simply just two. You and Alastor.

“You’re frowning,” Alastor says. He stares at you from the corner of  his eyes. “Why?”

It’s weird.

Very weird.

You don’t . . . You don’t understand. How do you say the words you do not know how to explain?

It’s almost as if . . . “We should get married.”

Alastor’s laughter rings across the open land. “No.”

The inside of your cheek stings from how you bite it. You turn away to hide your flushed cheeks. “I . . . It just came out, okay?” you mumble. “I’m really trying not to be offended that you turned me down without a second thought, and with a laugh as well.”

Alastor turns back to his notepad. “Don’t be,” he says. “I’m nothing you want.”

The moonlight reflects off his brown eyes.

“Sometimes . . . ,” you begin, and a small smile appears on your lips. “Sometimes I wish you see yourself the way I see you.”

Alastor laughs at you again. “You’ve been having such thoughts about me?” he says. “What an absolute honor! I’m deeply flattered.”

“And then you say words like that, and I immediately know it’s not worth it

Alastor lifts his eyes from his notepad to peek at you. He fixes his eyeglasses. “You don’t actually think we should get married.”

To be infuriating, you take a bite from your plate, savoring each flavor with drawn out chews.

“I have no idea,” you say. “But . . . I mean, why not? There are many good reasons for me to marry you—it’s advantages for me, and everyone already thinks we’re dating.”

Alastor turns back to his notepad, shaking his head. “That’s the most absurd idea I’ve ever heard.”

“What, being in a relationship with me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s twice you’ve managed to offend me.” You laugh to hide your frown. “But that friend of yours. The feathery one from the lounge you like taking me to.”

Alastor tilts his head. “Mimzy?”

“Ah yes, her,” you say with a hum. “She asked me if you um . . . uh . . .  well, if you liked vanilla or hot and spicy.”

“If I had to answer, Id say hot and spicy?” Alastor says, and you laugh at the confusion on his face. “I got a bottle of this pepper flakes infused with old. It was quite the treat.”

“That’s exactly what I figured you would say,” you tell him.“Unfortunately for you, Mimzy was talking about sex.”

Alastor scrunches his face.

“Oh don’t make such a face, there is absolutely no need to be afraid of the prospect of such activities.” The final bite of your meal bursts with so much flavor that you revel it for a second. “Al, let’s get married.”

Alastor glares at you. “No.”

You place the plate on the coffee table. It can be  washed after this conversation. “Why not?”

He points his pen between you and him..“We aren't even dating,” he says. “And . . . I can’t express such passionate displays of affection.”

You rock the chair with your shoe. An owl hoots from somewhere beyond the trees. Huh, you weren’t aware owls lived in this area. “Don’t be a child—just say sex.”

Again, his face scrunches. “I will not.”

“It’s a really good thing,” you say, sighing, “that no one’s asking.”

Alastor searches for your eyes. He holds it. It was only ever his to hold anyway. “I’m not even sure I’m interested in romance.”

You look around, whipping your head. “I think I’m missing the part where someone asked.”

“Be serious.”

“Okay fine. This is me being serious because I am when I say that all I don’t need your romance—Al, you accepted me for who I am, and to me? That is enough,” you say with a soft smile. “You are all I could ever ask for.”

Alastor stares at the stars, his eyes capturing each one. “I can’t love you like a husband should.”

The stares are really beautiful. Each shines in their own way. Alastor sees the beauty in them, but you aren’t going to be beaten by a gas ball.

Tonight, you will be the only star Alastor should keep his gaze on.

“Alastor, look at me.”

He keeps his eyes on the stars.

Huffing, you stride to his chair, and block his view of the night sky.

You plant your arms on the armrest for support, and inch your face so close that you are the only thing he will see. “Alastor,” you say his name, voice oh so soft, “look at me.”

Oh . . . his eyes are browner than you thought. It’s a deep and dark brown that pulls you in.

“You can love me in ways that matter.” You press your forehead against his, and close your eyes.

There are more words to be said, but right now you and him stay in this moment of time. Just . . . for . . . a second.

“I will never force you to love me in ways you cannot,” you whisper. The ends of his hair brush against your skin. “Alastor, I could never reject the type of love you can offer me. I can never deny you.”

Alastor caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers. “Friends don’t get married.”

Impulsivity was such a bad habit of yours. It’s a fact that makes you bear the consequences, but consequences be damned. You take his hand, holding it in yours. The pads of his fingers have different textures. Some are smooth. Some are rough. But the whole thing warms you to the touch.

It’s unfair. He’s unfair. How could something as simple as taking his hand intoxicate?

Your lips hover over his skin, brushing it a little. Alastor doesn’t pull away. With a smile that Alastor always seems to put on your lips, you plant a soft kiss on his ring finger.

“We aren’t normal people. There’s no reason to force ourselves into a conventional relationship.” You meet his eyes with a smile. Every word you utter brushes your lips yo his skin. “This marriage will be defined however we want. You offered me a partnership in death . . . .This is me offering you a partnership in life.”

You press your lip on the back of his hand one final time, and return to your chair.

Alastor doesn’t speak.

You rock yourself with your foot, enjoying the sway of the chair.“There is that added benefit that the police won’t be suspicious of a doting husband.”

Alastor scrunches his face. “Doting husband?” he echoes. “I thought we wouldn’t be having a normal marriage.”

“That doesn’t mean a lady doesn’t want to feel special,” you say, snorting. “I’ve always dreamed of a doting husband.”

Alastor rips a page out of his notepad. He folds it with his hands.

His vets match his shoes today. The hair on the back of his head sticks out and curls. Did he take a nap today? “I could be like this every single night,” you say softly. “You and me. The two of us under the stars until our hairs turn gray.”

Alastor’s gaze stays locked on the piece of paper he’s folding. “Why me?”

You stare at him with a smile, and lean your face on your palm. “Does it need to be said?”

Alastor glances at you with those brown eyes of his. “I’m asking.”

“It’s because . . . It’s . . . I . . . ,” your trail off. How do you summon the words to describe something you don’t understand?

There’s a smug smile on Alastor’s lips. “What, is it because you love me?”

“Would it be so bad if I did?” you say, chuckling into your arm. “But . . . well, I don’t exactly know how to properly say this.”

“Just open your mouth,” he says, rolling his eyes, “and let the words do it’s job.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” you tell him, and your cheeks tingle. “Maybe even past life. Can you imagine that? You and me in hell, doing our dishes together.”

There’s an odd look on his face. “Sure.”

“We can listen to the radio,” you say. “And I’ll ask you about your day, and you will tell me the wildest and most grandiose story while we clean a pot.”

Alastor smiles at you. “You hate doing the dishes.”

“I do not.”

“You do. I see it—I always do,” he says with a soft chuckle. Alastor taps his nose. “Your nose scrunches every time, yet you never ask for help.”

What expression are you making right now?

You bring your legs to your chest. “I’m willing to give up everything for dirty dishes if it means I have you as a companion for the rest of my life.”

Alastor turns back to whatever he was folding.

You hide your face in your legs, face flushed and warm. “Say something . . . please,” you say, whispering. “I just poured out my heart for you

You hear Alastor rise from his seat. He places a hand on your head. “Today’s dinner . . . ,” he says, and his voice is the softest it’s ever been. “Did you like it?”

You smile even if he couldn’t see it, and lean into his hand. “It was one of the most delicious thing I have ever tasted.”

“I wouldn’t mind making it for you for the rest of my life . . . if you’re willing to wash the dishes with me for the rest of yours,” Alastor says, and you think this is the most honest thing he’s ever told you. “It’s yours. Even if you don’t want it, this is yours now.”

You peek out of your knees. Alastor’s smile is soft. He opens his palms and your eyes flicker to them. He shows you what he’s been folding. It’s the paper of his notepad folded into a ring—a paper ring.

“Do it again,” you say with a beam that could rival the stars. “Ask me again.”

Alastor caresses your cheek, the back of his finger brushing down your skin. “Doting husband?”

“Exactly,” you say with a laugh and lean into his touch. “You catch on very quickly.”

Alastor takes your hand in his, and his thumb brushes over your ring finger. Does he feel your skin the way you feel his? He kneels on one knee and the paper ring is presented to you. “Would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

You insert your ring finger into the paper ring. “The honor would be mine, my dearest.”

Alastor stares at you.

You stare back.

 The moment your eyes settle on one another, laughter echoes across the land. It’s loud and breathy, and it echoes so far that the local wildlife gets disturbed. Alastor settles back on his chair, rocking himself.

Alastor calms down first. “Oh . . . uh . . . Should we share a passionate kiss?”

The stars shine above you. Not a single gas ball can beat the brightness of your smile. “Do you want to?” you ask. “Be honest, my dear.”

Alastor hesitates for a second. “Not particularly—Do you?”

“Maybe? Sometimes?” you say with a shrug. “I could live a happy life without such passionate kisses.”

“Really?” he says, and the surprise in his voice makes you laugh. “You would be fine without one?”

“Well, since you’re so insistent, I’ll allow a kiss.”

Alastor snorts into the air. “And where and when would you want such a kiss?”

You hold him in your gaze. There’s so much to learn, so much to figure out. It’s alright. There will be time. “Anywhere and anytime, you want, my love.”

“You’re going to give me control?” he asks. “Is this not something you would want as well?”

“I’ll make this easy enough for you to understand,” you tell him, tracing the paper ring around your finger. “I demand a kiss whenever you are completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.”

Alastor hums, looking away to study the woodcarving on his chair. He picks on them. “I supposed if you need anyone to fulfill your needs I only as—”

“Just say sex, my dearest,” you say, and Alastor sinks into his chair with a huff. “That will never happen. This isn’t a friendship, my love. I am entering a relationship with you. No matter how unconventional, it is still ours.”

Alastor locks your eyes with a pleased smile. “Good.”

The rocking chair rocks you into a small lull. “My dear.”

“Yes?”

“My love.”

Alastor sighs. “Yes?”

“My dearest,” you say. “Would you want to share a bed?”

Alastor stays silent. There’s hesitation on his face. You see it in the way his lips twist. You see it in the way his eyebrows furrow. You see it in the way he leans back on his chair to stare at the stars.

“Okay then, we can circle back to that later,” you say with a soft chuckle. “How about a room—Do you want to share one?”

Alastor raises his eyebrows, staring at you with silent judgment. He is a book that you are allowed to learn. There’s so much to read, and so much still left to be read. That’s okay. There’s time. No matter how long. You have time.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, we can share a room without sharing a bed,” you exclaim, throwing your hands into the air. “We can even have bunk beds. That would be cool. I’ve always wanted a bunk bed.”

Alastor rests his face on his palm to look at you. There it is again, the breathy and light laughter. “We are not sleeping on a bunk bed.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Charlie’s smile slowly morphs into a frow that you cannot decipher. It makes sense that you can’t. Afterall, she is not the book you’ve spent your life learning to read. “You . . . You don’t actually love each other?”

There’s a frame hanging on your kitchen wall that says otherwise.

It holds an art piece you embroidered for the sole purpose of giving it to your husband. The color of the wooden frame compliments the colors of the thread as if it was carefully chosen to match. The one here in the kitchen is but one of many frames around the house. Alastor keeps every single item safe beneath the glass to to be admired.

There’s a shelf standing on the living-room carpet that says otherwise.

It holds ugly knick knacks that Alastor bought for the sole purpose of giving it to his wife. It’s a pain to dust the shelves, but not a speck of dirt touches its surface, as if it was carefully taken care of. The one in there in the living-room is but one of many shelves around the house. You keep every item spotless to be admired.

“We’re not heartless,” you say. “Alastor and I don’t have the same relationship you and your girlfriend have.”

Charlie sways in her seat, a hand rests on her chin when she hums. “ I am so sorry,” he says. “I think it’s great and all that, I’m just having trouble understanding.”

“It’s not exactly for you to understand.” You take a sip from your mug.

“So it’s not a relationship,” Charlie says. “Sooooo, is it like a really really deep friendship?”

“The lines between us are so blurry that it’s become deeper than friendship,” you admit with a small smile. “I just know that my soul is connected to him in ways I do not know how to tell him.”

“Is that really possible?” Charlie asks. “To just . . . love each other so differently?”

“Can our relationship not just . . . exist?” You lean on your palms. “Do you really think it’s so impossible for two people to just . . . to just look forward to cooking and washing the dishes together?”

Charlie’s eyes brighten. “I think I’m starting to understand,” she says. “So like—”

“Charlie . . . if I sit here and answer all of your questions, we’re going to waste time.” You play with the fiddle of your mug. “You didn’t come here for relationship advice.”

“Oh . . . yes.” Charlie sits there. Her smile slowly falls into a frown. “I’ve been thinking of how to convince you to help me, but I can’t think of a single thing to say, and I don’t want to force you either.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You haven’t exactly asked for my help either.”

Charlie blinks at you. “ . . . Huh?”

You raise your mug to toast to her. “If you want my help, just ask for it.”

Charlie grabs your hand with a tight grip. “Please, help me,” she says, voice shaking. “I don’t want to drag Cannibal Town into an all-out war without knowing there was a way to keep them safe.”

“Sure, why not?” You pull your hand away.

A loud squeal bounces off the walls.

Charlie pulls you into the tightest hug you’ve ever experienced. She hauls you with all the strength of a hellborn princess.  Your feet drag against the floor as she pulls you out of the kitchen and into the living-room.

Charlie drops you with a wince on her face. She stares at the broken window, and the obviously missing television.

You trip out of her hold.

Alastor wraps his hand on your shoulders, steading you against him until you find your balance. His touch lingers on you.

The television shaped hole on your glass window makes your eyes twitch.

Alastor steps away from you, twirling his microphone. It strikes the floor with a harsh thunk. “Oh, yes that,” he says. “It seems there was an unfortunate accident.”

“Oh, really now?” you say, placing a hand on your hips. “I would love to know exactly how that happened.”

Alastor’s smile widens, and his arms wave the air. “The clumsy boxed tripped right out the window.”

Your smile strains. “That is rather unfortunate,” you say. “What a shame, I rather liked that television. It’s been a constant companion, and never has it once disappeared on me for several years.”

Alastor glares at you.

You glare back.

“I would love to help you clean this mess,” Alastor says with that triumphant smile of his.

Would a second broken window be worth trouble if it means there would be an Alastor-shaped hole?

“Perfect!” you say. “I’m sure you still remember where we keep the broom.”

Alastor boops your nose. “Unfortunately, the cannibals will be meeting us at the hotel,” he says. “I think it’s time we take our leave. Say goodbye to my wife, Charlotte.”

Charlie opens her mouth to correct him. She changes her mind at the last minute, choosing to sulk with a wave instead.

Alastor opens the door, allowing Charlie to step out first. She strides to the flowerbeds, kneeling to observe the plants.

Alastor stills by the door frame.

He inches close enough for you to reach him. The fabric of his lapels smoothen as you adjust its fit on him.

A breeze tussles Alastor’s hair. You swipe the stray locks, brushing his hair away from his forehead, until . . . until the x that marks the gunshot catches your eyes. Frowning, you thumb the mark, caressing it with oh so soft touches. There was a time where you believed that you and him had all the time in the world. Death laughed at you that night.

Alastor watches you, taking your wrist to pull it away.

He leans closer, and picks a feather on your head. “Will you indulge me?” he asks. “There’s just something I want to ask of you before I leave.”

“Say it, and it will be yours.”

Alastor pokes his cheeks, mimicking a smile. “Just one of these from you will do—Something to power me through the day.”

With a soft chuckle, you widen your lips to show him the brightest smile you can muster. “Is that much better, my love?”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek. “Indeed,” he says. “You’ve been frowning for a while now.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Have I?”

Alastor boops your nose. “You have,” says. “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

“It’s nothing serious to you,” you tell him with a shake of your head. “It’s nothing worth listening to.”

Alastor taps his fingers across his microphone. “It’s not nothing. Especially when you frown like that,” he says. “If it’s serious to you, it is worth listening to.”

“Sometimes . . .I still find myself wondering how you feel,” you say, smoothening the feathers on your head “Even after being married for so long, there are times where I still do not know

“You’re not a mind reader,” he says. “If you want to know, you should just ask.”

“Alright then,” you say with a smile. “How are you feeling today, my love?”

Alastor caresses your cheek. The back of his fingers brush down your skin until it hooks around your chin. You tilt it to the side, offering your cheek, ready for him.

Alastor tugs your chin, adjusting your face until your eyes are drawn into his own. And oh . . . Has he always looked at you like this?

Alastor inches closer, his nose nudging against your own. Your heart thumps in your ear.

A minute has never felt so long as you stay frozen. It’s a whole minute  if his lips brushing inches above yours. It’s a whole minute of his finger stroking the skin of your chin. It’s a whole minute of feeling his breath on your skin. It’s a whole minute where inches of space separate your

Alastor tortures you with the simplest of sensation that intoxicated you to your very core. You don’t move away, not from him—never from him.

Your eyes close when Alastor presses his lips across yours.

The taste of this morning’s coffee is dizzying. The soft tickles of his breath make your fingers curl around the fabric of his coat. You were never a poet. It’s Alastor who was better with his words. You cannot describe the way he kisses you with sweet metaphors or soft analogies.

Alastor pulls away.

You inch closer to chase him, until self-control takes over. It splashes you with the warmth of a bucket filled with ice.

Oh . . . oh.

There are words to be said, questions to be asked. The heat tingling of your cheeks and the electricity buzzing your lips make it hard to find the words.

You bury your face into the fabric of Alastor’s chest, curling into him to hide how red your face flushes. The back of his coat crumples when you grip it.

Alastor wraps his arms around you, tightening the hug. His finger stroke your shoulder blade. “Does that answer your question?”

You inhale into his clothes. It’s warm. He’s warm. So warm that int transfers to you. “No, not at all,” you mumble. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Alastor leans back, pushing you away to search your face.He stares at you.

You stare at everything but him.

Alastor squishes your cheek, giving it a light shake. “Stop demanding things from me when you’re not going to remember.”

“I did no such thing.” You swat his hand away. “Will I be seeing you soon?”

Charlie catches your eyes. She quickly glances away before eventually looking back. You bring out your hand, folding your fingers to indicate the number two. Charlie cringes so deep she creates a double chin.

Alastor brushes feathers out of your face. “You wouldn’t need to ask if you accepted Charlie’s offer to stay at the hotel,” he says. “ I was given a room there. I think you would like it . . . but, there’s still thousands of unused rooms if you wish to stay somewhere else.”

“My deerest, are you asking me to stay at the hotel?”

Alastor’s silence makes you chuckle.

With the tips of your toes, you reach to press a kiss on his cheek. “I will see you soon.”

“You always will.”

Charlie and Alastor leave with a wave. You close the door before they reach the gate, leaning on the door. The wood does little to settle the way your skin buzzes. Demand a kiss? You would never do such a thing.

The clock strikes. It’s time to leave for work. You take your coffee mug, scrubbing it with soap. (If you drop it twice, then that’s your business.) You open the cupboard, placing your matching mug next to Alastor’s clean one.

Today . . . Today will be a good day.

For today, there’s no need to throw away cold coffee mugs.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Next Part: |Glimpse of Me and You: Part 1| First of all, you will never catch my Alastor cooking jambalaya. It’s a great dish, I know. But I refuse to fall into the curse. Part of the reason why this chapter took so long to publish, besides work getting in the way, was because I didn’t know how I would want Alastor and Reader to love each other. Like do I make it purely romantic?  But I like keeping this as canon as possible. And I know that Alastor is only canonically ace. This problem struck me until I realized that to be accepted is to be loved. So I decided to write a story that will make me happy to show you. There are so many other fics with pure romance, and I wanted to respect Alastor’s asexuality and everyone who relates to him. This is my love letter to him and to you. Also, I’m just going to put it out there, just in case someone might ask why there’s a kiss on the lips? This is a reminder that you can define a relationship any way you could want. I debated whether that kiss should be on the cheek or on the lips. A cheek kiss isn’t inherently romantic, so I could have just done this. The lip kiss just felt…correct. I wanted to showcase that the relationship between Alastor and Reader isn’t a conventional one, and that it’s fine to have one that differs from what is considered normal. So the best way would be to take something that everything thinks is very romantic and twist it in a way that it could mean something different. And thus, any kiss before and after this chapter really just means that Alastor is completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.

Taglist: @mybrainautocorrect @ray-rook @teavibesaf @valentique @qardasngan @tobyisher3 @amoraneuro @okay-babe @holymusicialmothman @lyralibra @alastorssimp @aestheticglas-blog @slaggylemon

[pearlyfolder]

dating shoyo hinata hcs

- this might be a little ooc but i hope you enjoy nonetheless haha <3

- hinata is a huge sweetheart, always complimenting you whenever he can. he really can’t help it— he adores you soo much

- he would always bring you up in conversations unintentionally. someone mentions something you like? he’d immediately bring you up, saying how “it’s your favorite” and then proceeds to ramble on and on about you

- he loves being around you whenever he can. he’d never not be seen around you since wherever you go, he goes. It’s like he’s permanently glued to your side

- on that same note, he also loves spending time with you. wether it’s going out to shopping or just simply cuddling in bed together, he loves it nonetheless

- he also really enjoys physical touch— always holding your hand, going in for big hugs randomly throughout the day, or just always cuddling whenever you two are hanging out together

- he would always ask you to help him practice volleyball. if you don’t know anything about volleyball, that’s okay! hinata would take his time explaining the rules of the game before teaching you how to play

- let me know if you’d like more! although i had no clue what i was doing i enjoyed making this but I’ve ran out of creativity juice ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡ so I’m gonna go take a nap. don’t forget to drink some water and eat something today!

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ SUPER SHY

ft. sae itoshi

tags. highschool au, a bit of cussing, gn!reader, the word ‘pretty’ is used but i still believe they're gn, all fluff ! / author's note. based on the song, super shy by newjeans!! another no skip album from the newjeans girlies!!! :3 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. proofread, but i'm dumb and notice errors a month after i post something so </3 is he ooc? probably, but i love him so it doesn't matter

“do you even think he even knows my name?” you pout as ask your long time best friend, mai, if she thinks sae itoshi, someone you've developed a tiny crush on, at least knows your name.

you've sat in front of him since the beginning of the school year in your math class, but never mustering up enough courage to talk to him. (you personally think you've “talked” to him when he asked you for a pencil, but mai thinks otherwise, “it only counts when you actually have a full on conversation with him.” she tells you.)

“hmm, typically i'd say yes because of how long we've been in school, but you haven't even talked to him. ever. so, no.” mai smirks, she's sure he knows your name because of attendance being taken verbally daily, but decides to tease you so you finally decide to talk to him.

“you know for a best friend, you're really great at reassuring me.” you sarcastically say as your dramatically lean back into your chair.

mai was actually great at comforting and reassuring people, but at this moment in time, she seems very annoyed that you haven't made any moves on sae and seems to be pushing you to more and more to everyday.

mai laughs before confidently saying, “i know!” with a flip to her hair.

you have no idea if you're dreaming or not.

did you really just get paired up with the sae itoshi for the upcoming partner quiz?

did the gods finally answer your prayers every time there was a partner quiz to get paired up with him?

honestly, you could care less the reason. but you swear this is a dream and your heart started racing so fucking fast the moment your teacher said your's and sae's name in one sentence.

you swear you're about to pass out when sae gives you a small nod as he moves to the seat next to you so it's easier for the two of you to work together. wait—did he just give you a small smile too?

fuck him for being so pretty and smelling so good. it is so hard to concentrate on your review for the quiz while sitting next to him. you hope he doesn't see your side glances every few seconds and how your face is ever so slightly burning up.

“hey, you okay? you've barely done any problems..” sae suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence as he looks at your paper.

“yeah!” you nearly jump at his words and immediately sit up, composing yourself as best as you can before turning your attention to your practically blank paper.

sae chuckles before placing his paper on your desk for you to copy his work. who knew the genius (on the field and academically) would let someone copy his work?

“you're a mess,” he laughs, how dare he laugh at you and how dare he point out how flustered you were. “but you're cute, y/n.”

you swear you stop functioning.

sae has been on your mind all the time after getting paired up with him. he even starts talking to you in class even after he's not required to. he's a little bolder than he gives off to be. maybe you're being delusional, but is he ever so slightly flirting with you?

but, nonetheless sae is actually a sweetheart and even starts hangs out with you at lunch, (and buys you lunch if you ever forget yours!) and walks you home from school.

“hey.” sae muttered as he plopped down next to you at the lunch table.

“hi.” you say, as you swallow a bite of your food. the food was actually his from home, but he insisted on giving you his and it would be fine and that he could just buy something from the cafeteria.

coincidentally, the cafeteria was selling something you didn't particularly enjoy, so you were grateful sae gave you his. but, still denying it at first about how you didn't want to take his because of how frequently he buys you lunch.

weird, you swear you're luck has increased like crazy ever since you started hanging out with sae, getting higher scores on tests, (he's been studying with you when you're having trouble on a unit) and getting things you've been talking about wanting for a while out of the blue. (he's the person you've been ranting about wanting these things and he secretly places them in your locker the next day)

hey, maybe he was a lucky charm. and he was stupidity handsome too. and he had the sweetest personality ever, and—

you feel that you only fall for him more everyday. you were so fucking shy around him at first, but now you feel comfortable around him, hell even at the level of comfortable-ness you feel with mai.

sae itoshi was odd, but he was special.

it's been a while since you became friends with sae. summer was nearing and your relationship friendship is at an all time high.

one day though, sae asks you to meet up with him at a nearby park; a park that you enjoyed visiting while on walks, the flowers still somehow just as beautiful as when they first bloomed even as the heat reels in.

you throw on a cute outfit before heading out to meet sae. it wasn't strange that sae brought you to breathtakingly beautiful spots, but this one felt particularly special.

“hey.” sae greets in his stupidity smooth voice. he looks as handsome as ever, except his hair a little different which makes him look all the more handsome.

he's sitting on a bench under a flower tree that has lost a majority of its petals, somehow it still looks beautiful.

“hi.” you wave and smile before taking a seat next to him under the tree.

“so, why'd you bring me here today?” you know why, simply just sitting and talking was sae's favorite way to spend time with you, but something inside you urges you to ask.

“just the normal, i guess.” he shrugs, before ushering you to start talking about whatever was on your mind.

whenever it was gossip, something that has been bothering you, or a new show you started watching, sae loved listening to you talk. he looked at you with the most intense expression ever while you blabbed on about whatever, carefully listening to every word that comes out of your pretty mouth.

he isn't even listening anymore. something about you today that just.. makes him stop listening. you looked so fucking pretty today. don't get the wrong idea—he thought you looked pretty everyday, but something about you today that pushes him to finally say the words he's been dying to tell you for a while now.

“earth to sae—hey! are you even listening?” you call out to him, your voice snapping him out of the trance.

how long was he not responding to you? oh god, it seems like a quite a bit since you were touching his shoulder.

oh. you were touching his shoulder.

sae takes a deep breath before calming himself and averting his gaze back to you.

“be mine, idiot.” sae blurts. okay, he didn't mean to say idiot, but he knows you don't take it seriously, so he stares at you with his stupid pretty eyes, waiting for your response.

you are suddenly taken back to the emotions you felt when you first finally talked to sae—a flustered mess, shy as hell.

if anyone passed by they would've guessed you two were having a staring contest because of how long you were staring at each other in silence, either of you not seeming to blink.

you two stay in silence before you finally talk after what seemed like a century.

“what?” is all you manage to breathe out. not an ideal response, but hey, you need to absolutely be 100% you heard him right.

sae huffs before speaking again.

“you heard me. be mine. i'm tired of you not being mine.”

you feel so warm inside and you swear you're gonna pass out.

before you can say anything, sae gently pulls you close to him and kisses you. and holy shit, his lips are so so soft.

you can't help but melt into his kiss and touch, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer.

he pulls away smirking.

“guess that's a yes?” he knows the affect he has on you and you hate it.

“no.” you jokingly roll your eyes, knowing sae knows you don't mean it at all. your shyness—whenever it had been around him or someone else, sae had always thought it was so cute.

“you wish.” he chuckles, before pulling you into his chest.

your shyness wouldn't drive sae away. never in a million years.

[fl3ur3]

SAGAU IMPOSTOR

part 6

Gender neutral reader

Red - Amber speaking

Green - Jean speaking

Orange- albedo speaking

Blue - reader speaking

Warning- N/A (ooc characters + bad grammar jk)

Summary: off to dragonspine

I wake up at the sound of the door opening, in walks Jean with a tray of presumably breakfast. ‘Good morning [player], Did you rest well?’ She says carefully setting down the tray, ‘ yawn I did thank you’

‘That’s good to hear, I’ve brought you some breakfast hopefully it’s to your liking. You’ll need enough energy for our journey through drangonspine, I’ll let you enjoy your meal in peace come find me once you’re done ok?’ I nod in response already enjoying the food she brought.

As Jean leaves the room I start to think, ‘Oh yeah, Almost forgot todays the day we go to see Albedo, I hope he has some answers or atleast ideas on how to get me home..’ and before I knew it I’d already finished, ‘Jean said to find her mhm I’ll head to her office she’s probably there’

As i thought Jean was already working away at the pile of paperwork on her desk, hearing me come in she looks up smiling ‘Ah good you’re here, Amber should be arriving any minute please sit while we wait’ I nod taking a seat on the couch, Jean continues working as I relax in the comfortable silence, that is soon interrupted by Amber bursting through the door dramatically a big smile on her face ‘I’m heeeeeereeeee’ ‘Thank you for joining us Amber, is everything ready ?’ ‘It certainly is one bag packed ready for a dragonspine expedition’ she says still grinning from ear to ear.

‘Let us go then, [player] please stay close to us and we’ll be fine’

We soon arrive at the giant icy mountain, ‘wow that’s even bigger in person..’ I stare in awe, Amber nudges me noticing I stopped ‘everything okay?’ ‘Yeah just never realized how big it actually is..’ ‘No need to worry we��ll protect you no problem’ she says looking rather proud ‘yeah you’re right let’s go.’ We quickly catch up with Jean entering dragonspine I instantly shiver ‘Wow that’s freezing’ seeing me shudder Amber makes a small flake in her palm to slightly warm us both.

After a while we decide to take a small break, Jean pulling tiny sandwiches out of the bag they’d brought, after the short break we continue our journey not soon after arriving at Albedos lab.

‘Greetings Jean, Amber and of course our dear [player]’ Albedo Greets us a polite smile on his face , after exchanging pleasantries Jean asks ‘Have you found anything?’ Getting straight to the point , ‘I have, after receiving your letter I did some digging and.. I think I found why they were brought here’ ‘YOU DID?!’ ‘Yes, it seems that someone’s spell went wrong, instead of doing whatever it was supposed to it somehow brought them here. That or someone purposely brought them here..’

‘Then we need to find whoever casted that spell whether it was on purpose on not doesn’t matter right now, we need them to reverse it so they can go back!’ Jean says standing up quickly ‘I AGREE well find them and have them make this right!!!’

‘I’ll try to locate the caster, in the mean time im afraid you’ll have to stay here a little while longer’ he says looking at me with sadness in his eyes ‘It’s fine, I’m just glad we sort of know what happened and how to get me home’ ‘I’ll send you a letter once I’ve located our culprit, in the meantime could they stay with the knights?’’of course, you can stay as long as you need okay. We’ll get you home don’t worry’ Jean says squeezing my shoulder softly. ‘Thank you Jean, and you albedo, I don’t know how to tha-‘ ‘there’s no need, it’s an honor to help you [player]’

Soon enough The 3 of us start our journey back, ‘I guess I’ll have to stay a while longer, maybe I can meet some more ppl while I’m here..’ I think as we arrive back at mondstadts gates’

END

Note: once again long time no see and this is quite short (as always), but I hope y’all enjoyed nonetheless. Expect the next 1/2 parts to be just meeting characters or doing stuff. Idk when the next lady will be, but even if it takes a while do not worry it will be here I just suck at writing a lot.

Anyway hope you enjoyed and see u at the next part ;)

[mushrubes]

Family Vacation

Masterlist | Resident Evil masterlist |

Requested : no

Based on character ai { Leon Kennedy by @/childofthedevil }

Pairing : ex husband!Leon Kennedy x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type :  fluff

Word count : 938

Content: Swear words, mutual pinning, still in love, slightly ooc :)

Have a great day !! <3

——————————–

The pair of you stood side by side on the beach, finding two deck chairs. You looked out at your kids as they built sand castles nearby - exchanging awkward glances with your ex-husband. It was summer and Leon had finally had time off, deciding to take everyone on a much-needed vacation - though far from a normal one. You and Leon had started the divorce process a few weeks ago, deciding to go on a 'family' vacation nonetheless, providing a sense of normality for the kids.

He sat down on the deck chair beside yours, clearing his throat awkwardly. His leg bounced slightly anxiously, running his hand through his hair - habits he'd never gotten out of. "Uh, you want a cocktail?" he offered, looking over at you. His eyes still had the softened sparkle he'd always looked at you with, ever since you'd met back in Raccoon City. "That would be lovely, thank you." you responded, leaning back and watching the kids while he went off to get them.

He came back a few minutes later with two cocktails, handing one to you as he sat down. "Cheers." he raised his own before taking a sip, his eyes trailing over to the kids. "They seem happy." softly, watching as they continued to play without a care in the world. You looked at the drink with a small smile playing on your lips. "You remembered my favourite?" you commented, heart swelling slightly. "I guess that means I wasn't a complete ass during our marriage," Leon teased with a smirk, chuckling before sipping his drink, his usual confident behaviour back.

"No, but seriously," he paused, looking down at the sand. "I wish we could've worked out. I really do. I'm still pretty fond of you." he shyly admitted. You sighed softly before getting up, and sitting next to him on his deck chair. "Y'know, the divorce isn't finalised for another few weeks." you gently reminded, a small part of you hoping he'd reconsider. He looked up, tilting his head slightly as he studied your face. "You're not thinking of changing your mind about the divorce, are you?" he asked, a tone of surprise evident.

You looked at the ground, heavily debating your next words. "Is this what we really want? a divorce?" you questioned, voice coming out a whisper. Leon thought for a moment, gazing at the setting sun. "We haven't been happy for a while." he pointed out, his voice soft and genuine. "I want what's best for you and the kids. I will always want that." he paused, clearing his throat. "And I don't think me being away on missions for weeks on end is what's best for them." he added, sipping his drink.

"They don't care, Leon. You should see their little faces when I tell them you'll be back - and when you walk through the door. They need you. I need you." You admitted, taking the chance. He looked over, his gaze meeting yours for a moment before returning to the waves as he let out a long breath. He looked back at you and paused, contemplating his next move. "Okay, but on two conditions..." he said quietly, his hand reaching out and intertwining with yours. "hm?" you responded, curious to see what he wanted.

"One," he began, taking a deep breath. "You can't blame me for any of our marital troubles anymore." he paused, looking at you with a serious, stern expression before continuing. "Two, I get to pick where we go to dinner tonight." he finished, ending the sentence with a smug smirk and a raise of his eyebrows. "that's all." he added, gaze locked on you. A hint of amusement in his eyes, as if the situation was laughable but the amusement would easily evaporate if you didn't agree. "I never did blame you, my love." you confessed softly, gently smiling. "and I already know exactly where you're picking." you added.

"My love?" he asked, his usual grin visible on his face, looking as if a weight had just lifted itself from him. "Oh, really? Then why don't you tell me where I'm picking," he taunted, grinning even wider. You giggled, moving to his lap, arms wrapping around his neck. "Oh I don't know, maybe the Italian restaurant down the road?" you teased smugly, knowing you were right. He pretended to be shocked, placing his hands on his cheeks. "so you did know?" he exclaimed, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"And how, pray tell, did you know that's where I was taking you tonight?" he asked curiously, voice sounding playful and teasing. He put on a mock-confused face as he awaited the answer. You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. "Because, my dear husband, I know your favourite is Italian." you reminded, caressing his cheek. Leon chuckled as he felt your touch. "Good point, my love." he said with a playful wink, nudging your arm. "But that's not the only reason I was gonna take you there." he smirked, before continuing. "There was another reason."

"Oh yeah? and what's that?" you grinned, your face moving closer to his. Leon's eyes met yours in a passionate stare. However, before he could utter a word, he leaned forward to kiss your lips. He pulled you even closer into him, arms around your waist as you kissed, his hand reaching up to touch your hair. "I can't wait to show you why I was gonna take you to that Italian restaurant tonight." he whispered in your ear after breaking off the kiss, his voice seductive.

Tonight couldn't come quick enough.

[elixrr]

Simpy Xiao One-Shot

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Semi-ooc Xiao x GN!Reader

Synopsis... Xiao confesses his love to you. A brainrot that's been rotting my brain, but it's just Xiao trying his best with you to confess, but fails and succeeds in the same time.

Author's note... Xiao has been occupying my brain since 2021. This is not okay, but I'm not complaining bc I love Xiao from the bottom of my idiot heart <3

Warnings... None, really. Just tooth-rotting fluff from stupidly cute brainrots I've had of him (mwahahahahhaa) oh, but also angst if you squint just hard enough that your eyes are quite literally closed. Oh, and a mini argument :')

“Xiao,” he heard you. He heard you— your voice, it rings within his head, from side to side to kiss on both his ears. Your voice was always meaningful to him. He could almost get lost in it, the way the syllables would be spelled out so greatly from you like a—

“Xiao?” You spoke once more, louder and clearer than before. Ah. He got lost in the thought of you again. Swiftly, with a flashy smoke of teal and black, he arrived right by your side, where he wanted to stay.

“You called?” Despite his words, he already knew why you called. It's always for the same reasons. To spend time with him. To do things with him. To be with him.

“Of course I did. What days do I not?”

Xiao tried to recount the days in which you've never even uttered his name. How many years ago was that? It's almost astounding how many years you've been friends with him at this point.

But it's almost as astonishing that he hasn't even confessed his love for you yet.

But never mind that, Xiao cleared his hazy mind full of fond memories with you, who replaces every other memory of his karmic debt, the agonizing presence of death that continues to pry at his sanity each passing day.

But you replenish all of that. His lost dreams, his lost hopes, and his lost world. You returned all of that to him, replenished and renewed. You, it's always you. You, who—

“Xiao, is something the matter?” You tangled his hair around your finger. The closeness had his face flushed with the pink of a peony. “You've been quite out of it lately.”

“I– I'm..?” Fine. Fine is what he wanted to say. But the words died down in his throat. All he could focus on was your features up close. You've been his friend for so long, but it's rare for you to get close to him, let alone come into contact with him. He's nervous, not just because physical contact with him is outright dangerous, but because you're just– just to close to him, and you don't even pay an ounce of attention to that. You're toying with his hair so naturally, as if it's nothing special, like it's nothing out of the ordinary— like you two were dating.

Oh, what a fantasy that would be. Xiao's hand intertwined with yours, laying in a field of grass and blooming flowers, you blabbering on about anything and everything, just like you always do. But this time, maybe you'd hug him. Run a finger or a few through his hair. Maybe you'd even kiss him. Or even do that thing that humans would do on the occasion out in the open, that thing called “cuddling”. Xiao blushes at the thought. You're already so close to him, but if you were even closer, arms wrapped around him, snuggled oh-so close? He could hardly take the thought without feeling weak to the knees.

“You're...? Okay, so, you're clearly not fine, if you were going to say that. So, here. Sit down with me, you can tell me what's happening in that restless life you've got there.” You, with a soft and low voice, whispered into his ear.

“O– Okay.” Xiao sat himself down right next to you, albeit a little closer than he intended, but still close nonetheless. Damnit, he hopes deep down and past his adeptal bones that you don't suspect a thing about him liking you.

“Alright, so something is up. If you're comfortable, you can tell me. I'm all ears.”

“Your invitation is tempting,” Xiao weens with an internal scoff, all while slipping his gaze elsewhere. “But I can't tell you anything.”

“You shouldn't need to know that I...” Ah. He let that part slip out. Albeit in a blushful whisper, but he could only pray to Rex Lapis that you didn't actually hear that.

Oh, but of course you did.

“Well, we've been friends for, like, forever! Or, uh, my forever, but you get the gist of it. Xiao, if something's wrong, you know you could tell me, I—”

“BUT WHAT IF I JUST CAN'T TELL YOU?!”

Xiao bellowed at you, having you flinch at the sudden response. That was unintentional, as told by the way he covered his mouth with his hand and the way his golden wide eyes would stare at you, heavy with guilt.

“Oh. Well, if you can't tell me, then I shouldn't pry on it. Sorry about that.”

“I– no, I should apologize. I didn't... mean to..”

Woah, wait. What's going on?

Xiao got quiet. The words, once more, were killed down his throat. He needed to get out of there quickly. But he couldn't teleport— he couldn't think of where to go at that moment, he envisioned a scornful look on your face when you stared at him. Do you hate him now? Will you suddenly give up on him? He just can't accept that, not after he found out that he was in love. He can't go back now, he realizes. He can't be used to the cold loneliness anymore, you've become a part of his life, a major part, he can't let go now! Why, oh why?! Why did he–

“Hey. Shh. Xiao, hey. I'm not mad, I'm not upset.”

Xiao opened his eyes. Everything was glassy and blurred. He rubbed his eyes— tears stained his gloves. Was he crying? In front of you? He tried to turn away, but then he felt your arms wrap around him delicately, like he was as fragile as glass. How could he escape now? You enveloped him in your arms, and he knows it's obvious that he's calmed down after that.

“Please... Don't go. Don't leave yet, I— I love you too much to let you go.”

He didn't mean for that last part to slip out, but even so, he nearly fell unconscious under your arms, feeling them squeeze around him as he confessed. Still. Of all times, why now? Why, when he's most vulnerable in your arms?

“It's okay, it's okay. You know, I love you too. I always have, but I never guessed those feelings were returned.” You took his hand in yours and smiled, looking into his soft, loving, yet teary eyes.

“Of course they were returned. I loved you for so long, I... didn't even know it.” Xiao's eyes stared back into yours, your tender eyes full of honesty. His hand squeezing yours slightly, a gesture to show that all his words were true. He watched your other hand wipe his remaining tears away, and he smiled.

Xiao smiled for you.

“Then... May I?” Xiao's face flushed a bright rosey red, seeing you inch closer and closer to him, filling in the gap of air that lay between you two.

Xiao stuttered, his heart screamed yes, but his head was going into overdrive and he didn't know what to say. Even if he did, there's no way he could form a sentence now.

But you waited. Your lips, slightly parted, were only centimeters from his own, awaiting his consent.

“P– please. Do so.”

And you crashed your lips into his, and as if roses bloomed beneath you both in place of the Inn's roof, he was dropped into eternal bliss.

Likes, reblogs, and shares are appreciated! <3

[ana-dear]

Lust for life ❤️🎸

Pairings: Hobie Brown x Reader

Warnings: VERY Very suggestive towards the end, but not smut, One dirty joke, Hobie is probably ooc, I did not portray his accent, Hobie uses nicknames like love, sweetheart, and dear, I projected heavily, Reader is implied to be afab (they wear a bra, that’s it), Gn pronouns.

Summary: It's 3:00 pm and you and Hobie are sitting in his neat but cluttered apartment bored out of your minds.

“Hobieee let’s do something I’m bored” you complain. “Like what, love?” His full attention is now on you. You start to think about what you could do, and in the end your head always comes back to one idea- shopping. “Let’s go to Target, we can use a few new items righttt” you say knowing damn well you don’t need to spend any more money. “By a few items you mean the whole store?” Hobie retorts with a smirk painting his lips. You roll your eyes at his antics, “no, I promise to only get a few items this time.” You try to convince yourself more than him, but he agrees nonetheless because how could he resist you? “Okay, fine, get dressed, we can go. But only for a few items, remember?” “Yeah yeah I remember.”

You and Hobie have now arrived at Target and you happily step out of the car ready to go shopping at your favorite store. “What exactly do we need to get?” Hobie asks curiously as you guys walk into the store. “I don’t know, maybe some new sheets, laundry detergent, and toilet paper.” You respond unaware of the way Hobie was looking at you suddenly. With the same sly smirk that he always wears, but this time it’s enhanced even more as he says “we definitely need more sheets don’t we darling?” Your eyes widen in embarrassment as you feel yourself trying to look anywhere but him. “Hobie less talking and just go get the shopping cart you perv.” Hobie chuckles at your noticeably rushed words as he gets the cart and you both make your way to get what you need.

After getting what you needed, now was the time for your favorite part. Spending your money on things that you didn’t need (but it feels like you do). “Okay so do you wanna check out the vinyls? I hope they have the ones I want” you ask Hobie as he hovers around you comparably to a tree. “Mhm maybe in a little, I actually have to look for something so I’ll come check in on you later, alright sweetheart?” He looks down at you. There he goes being so attractive without even having to try you think to yourself, but quickly snap out of it to answer. “Yeah, okay, I’ll be there.”

After he leaves you go to check out the vinyl selection and you see just what you were hoping for, Lana Del Rey “Ultraviolence” and Mitski “Be the Cowboy.” (Or anything you want). Happy with your find you go into the self care aisle to look for things so that you can restock on your favorite products. After this, you quickly head back to the vinyl section to call Hobie and tell him that your done. He picks up the phone and explains to you that there’s gonna be a change in plans, which your kinda confused about because why? But in the end you make your way to the front of the store to go pay for your items, even though Hobie would encourage you to shoplift the small ones. You see Hobie waiting at the door with two bags already in his cart. You raise your eyebrow and walk over to him “hey, what did you get?” “Oh me? You’ll havta wait to see what’s in the bag, love” he smiles at you. “Why? is it a surprise or sum?” Now you’re really wondering. “Maybe, don’t worry your pretty little head about it, now cmon let’s get outta here.”

You and Hobie make it back to his apartment and you excitedly pass through the door with your bags in his hands (he’s a gentleman). “You excited for your surprise, dear?” He grins at you holding the bags in his hand protectively. “Yeah, of course, let’s put our stuff down first and then we can reveal the ‘big surprise.’” “Sounds like a plan.”

This is the moment you’ve been waiting for since you’ve seen him with the bags. You and Hobie are sitting on his bed as he keeps the bags between his legs. You wait patiently for him to give them to you. And then he finally does so you can open it. You hurried up and opened the bags and inside was new gaming headphones, led lights, a mouse and keyboard, and also a $50 Starbucks gift card (I’m manifesting). You are positive that your smile could not have been brighter as you look at all your stuff. “Wow Hobs, you didn’t have to do this for me, this is so sweet, I didn’t even know.” “No stress, dear, you deserve it, I know how long you’ve been wanting better equipment to play the Sims 4, and the gift card was just a plus for you being so kind to me.” (I’m doing it again). “Thank you so, much I love you.” “I love you too, sweetheart.” “But Hobie if I knew you were getting me a surprise, I woulda got you one too” you say worried about not doing enough for him. “Relax love, I wanted to get you this outta the kindness of my heart, you don’t have to repay me- but you can.” Annnd he’s back. The same old non consistent Hobie with a smirk on his face, maybe you should make him eat his words you thought.

“I think I know a way” you say moving to get on top of him as you put your legs on either side of his waist. Your faces are so close, but yet you both feel as though they’re not close enough. His eyes widen but then quickly change back into their original shape. “And what do you think you’re doing, darling?” He asks with a teasing tone showing in his smooth voice. “Your gift” you briefly respond as you lean in closer to him. He accepts your answer as his hands wrap around you and stop at your lower back, keeping you steady. Hobie really wanted to kiss you, but he also found joy (read: arousal) in you making the first move. So that’s what you did. You leaned in to kiss him firmly but slowly. Hobie enjoyed this and began to kiss you more passionately once you found your pace. And after you guys both got real comfy, with hands exploring one another and moans passing through each other's lips, he suddenly flipped you over so that you were on the bottom laying with your back against the bed and he was on top. You let out a soft squeak at this, but continued. Hobies hands felt up and down your thighs, rubbing leisurely as he let out a deep moan into the kiss. Hobie was starving for more his desire for you was animalistic, and he expresses this as he pulls you closer so that now your chests are connected. You were both nearly out of breath but decided to continue kissing like your life depended on it, like you were each other's breath, like nothing else mattered. Because it didn’t as long as you were in the comfort of one another. Your hands run up and down his back underneath his distressed band t-shirt that you love so much before you both pull away to catch your breath. Hobie keeps his face next to yours as he breathes heavily with you, chests heaving up and down. He keeps this lustful look on his face with dazed eyes and wet, swollen lips. It’s the same way that you looked right now.

“You're a good kisser, you know that?” You say breaking the silence (why would you do that?). “Oh really? Well I think that we should continue just to make sure” he chuckles, but this time it’s more strained and low. He then again leans in to make out with you but this time it was different. It was more aggressive. It was like your lips were moving on their own to chase after something that you couldn’t pinpoint. The kiss was hard and deep and to make matters worse (or better) Hobie pins your hands above your head as the kiss gets more intense. You wrap your legs around his waist so you can feel him closer. His hands continued to feel up and down your thighs but this time with much more force behind them. You tug at the bottom of his shirt to let him non verbally know that you want it off. Hobie smirks at this and he couldn’t resist commenting. “You want to see me naked that bad, do you?” “Shut up” you say quickly as you watch him take off his shirt. His muscular chest was then exposed to you on full display and you made sure to not miss a single detail. His skinny waist, the shape of his pecs, and the scars that littered his abdomen that only made him look more attractive. Hobie displays a wide smile before he leans back in and kisses you with tongue. The kiss was wet and sloppy but neither of you stopped. Neither of you wanted to stop. Hobies hands move slowly down to your waist as you feel your shirt rising. You lean up against him so that he can better take off your shirt and bra. Now you take a much needed moment to look at each other, both shirtless.

Hobie moves back in and starts to squeeze your bare chest and rub against your nipples in a way that makes you crave more and your back arch. Hobies lips then press back against your neck as you feel his strong pelvis begin to grind against you, causing you both to let out a strangled moan. The tension was suffocating and you're pretty sure you both were throbbing by now. Apparently Hobie felt it too as his long and rough fingers started to unbutton his jeans. You look up at the ceiling, hoping that it will tell you a magical answer to keep your heart from racing and your eyes from wandering down to see his long length. You’re needy and waiting for the next move. Aching to get out of the confines of your jeans to feel him in his entirety. But then he suddenly stops and looks at you, he stares straight into your eyes and says

“Keep your eyes on me sweetheart, I want to show you just how much I appreciate you.”

[zalisok]

TUA Rant #3: Characters

Spoilers ahead!

Okay, I really want to talk about the characters this season. I feel like I'm not doing the best job at summarizing their characters here, but I hope this will suffice for the time being.

Luther: Luther was just a himbo the whole season. Kind of happy-go-lucky in an unnerving way. I thought it was because he was dealing with the loss of Sloane and the trauma of going through three apocalypses and having his worldview turned around in a short period of time but no, there didn't seem to be a reason for it. (Or if there was, I missed it). I wish the show would touch upon him losing Sloane more (not only Sloane would have loved this, Sloane would have loved that) and his traumas in the past seasons (the thing with Allison? Being murdered by his dad?) Although he didn't have much going on for him, I did like how the show showcased his protectiveness and his trust in his family. I also liked his dynamic with Diego.

Diego: I feel like the writers did Diego dirty here. They turned him into a dad who makes dad jokes (and also was the brunt of the joke a few times. I don't understand the fat nonsense going on.) I feel like his character is much more than that: yes, he has anger issues and is incredibly impulsive, but he is 100% a family man. Look at his relationship with Grace. The way his concern for his family manifests as anger throughout the seasons. Look at his relationship with Stan in Season 3. I was going to say that fighting Five while the others were fighting the Cleanse was OOC for Diego but now that I think about it, it's not completely OOC. (reasoning: he was fighting Cha Cha to avenge Eudora in 1x10 while his family were trying to subdue Viktor, and his obsession with JFK in season 2. We've also seen him fight family members before (aka Luther) and there might be more that I can't remember). Anyways, the show really undermined Diego and Lila's relationship from Season 2 and 3. Diego is so much more than what was portrayed this season, and it's really unjust to him when he truly cared so much for Liia (despite the communication issues) and he just forgave her so quickly (even though she betrayed him) because they were all dying. He deserved better.

Allison: Allison was so badass this season. Her relationship with Klaus and Claire is one of the parts I like the most in this season. We do get to see the motherly bond she has with Claire. It's only ever been touched upon gently in Seasons 1-3. We never get to see her interact with Claire (except that one time she read her a bedtime story) and it's nice to see Allison's maternal side when it's always been such an integral part of her character since Season 1. Although her storyline didn't add much to the story she did have some great moments, along with Klaus. Nonetheless, I still wish her actions in S3 could have been touched upon more, especially towards Luther.

Klaus: As I said, his relationship with Allison and Claire in this season is awesome. I don't like how he seemed to do a 180 because his powers came back--from being so adamant on staying sober and being a good role model for Claire and being so afraid of dying to falling back into his old ways and being incredibly self-destructive. It was so sudden (he had just told the family off, and then BOOM, he's stealing from Allison's home?) and, to me, it wasn't immediately clear why he was suddenly acting that way. I don't like how everything that happened to him was so traumatic but didn't add any relevance to the plot. I feel like it was only there for the shock factor and for emotional impact--and like I said before it only works because we love Klaus, but what's the use of adding this in? A huge part of Klaus's character is his addiction problems and self-destructive tendencies, and we see him actually get better in the first part of the season (in some twisted extreme way). But it was all undone in the second half of the season and he died that way. Upsetting.

Five: I don't think I can express how badly they mischaracterized him in the last few episodes. For the first part he seemed okay, albeit a bit quieter and less aggressive/assertive than he usually is. But then episode 5 happened and oh boy was it a complete 180.

I feel like the Five/Lila thing would make more sense (I'm not saying it's acceptable.) if there were more buildup. But there wasn't. Which makes it worse. To make it make sense we need to see how desperate and lonely they were, and it has to be EXTREME because these two characters are incredibly headstrong and capable assassins and absolutely do NOT seem like the type of people to just give in. Especially Five. That guy literally spent 45 years in an apocalypse and always held out hope for his family. The only way I can rationalize this is that it was because Five was just done with everything--we see some of that in Season 3. I get that his more subdued demeanor in the first half of the season might have been setting the audience up for this but it absolutely was not enough.

The journal was a "???" moment for me. You're telling me Five wouldn't jump at the chance to fix things when the answer is right in from of him? You could say that "oh maybe Five is the type of guy that becomes a fool when he falls in love" because we've never seen him in love before (even if you count Delores, which, to me, is just a coping mechanism for him--he still absolutely had his wits about him and used her as a way to stay on track and achieve his goals), you DON'T INTRODUCE SOMETHING LIKE THAT IN THE SECOND LAST EPISODE.

And the subway arc didn't end up doing anything at all? (except for the stupid love triangle) Five and Lila tried to go back in time to save their family but accomplished. Absolutely. Nothing.

Ben: I feel like his character retained most of the characteristics from the previous season for the first few episodes, which is nice, in a way. (I still want to know more about Ben being a crypto bro--side note: what was that scene in the subway from Season 3 all about? Ben reading books on how to scam people via cryptocurrency? jkjk). His character also did quite a 180 when he started to feel a connection with Jennifer--but it makes sense now that I think about it, given how we know from Season 3 how badly the Jennifer Incident affected him (side note: didn't Ben already know who Jennifer was in Season 3?) The storyline between Ben and Jennifer, to me, was interesting and honestly one of the better paced storylines, but honestly I have so many questions about the Cleanse and Jennifer that I wasn't completely satisfied. The vulnerability he showed in this season was nice to watch and his last scene truly was quite heartbreaking.

Viktor: I actually quite like Viktor's arc this season, and some of his scenes were my favourite parts of the season. The changes in his character came on a bit sudden: his anger towards Reggie (and his anger in general--I understand that anger and resentment has always been part of his character, but we didn't see much of that in season 2 or 3, and the only thing we know about him in the five year gap is that 1) he's a bartender 2) he's fucked every woman in nova scotia), him not going to family gatherings to him understanding that he had to be with his family and help them--it was underdeveloped and I wish we could have seen more of that process. Nonetheless, the way he stood up for himself and actually expressed his resentment this season was cathartic, (although a bit misplaced because this timeline's Reginald is NOT the same Reginald, but Viktor really needed to get that out) and he, along with Ben were the ones that were actually driving the plot here. I liked his growth and I wish his relationship with Reginald was explored a bit more, it was fun to watch and there's so much to unpack between both of them.

Lila:

I feel like she was reduced to "mother" this season. Her storyline just consisted of marital issues, parenting issues and love triangles. There was the part in the first (and second?) episode where she was part of the CIA but that was never brought up again. She was literally trained by the Handler. She was part of the Commission. She's capable of so much more, not only assassin-wise but also power-wise. What were those laser eyes really for? Why did she only use her mimicking powers in the last episode?

Another gripe I have about Lila-- her parents. Losing her parents was really traumatic for her. Especially when the person who killed her parents was Five. But we don't see any of that touched upon in Season 4, even when her parents existed in that timeline and she had SEVEN YEARS with Five. I think they both needed to air things out to give them both closure.

One thing that I find weird is that all the female main characters always, always have a storyline of them being a parental figure in some way. Allison throughout the series, pre-transition Viktor in season 2, Lila in seasons 3-4. It's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just something I noticed. It is worth nothing that not every female character has to be a parental figure.

Also, not everything has to be romantic. Platonic relationships can also be fun to watch and impactful. And even with romantic stuff, TUA has this consistent problem with introducing a love interest for one season and it having absolutely no significance in the next. Like Eudora and Diego. Ray and Allison. Luther and Sloane, to some extent. I understand that in most cases it's because the Umbrellas are jumping through time and space and their loved ones can't go with them, but if you're going to write a romantic subplot, at least acknowledge it a bit more for continuity reasons.

There's probably more that I can say but that's all for now.

[tabbyxcatt]

DEMON SLAYER CHARACTERS + KAI SONGS

♫₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

This a bit of a drabble, the idea just kinda spawned after listening to EXO and Kai while reading Demon Slayer fanfics lol. It is a bit random so read it if you're interested, or don't, that's okay too! But I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless and lemme know if I should do anything similar for other characters, or not! Though it might take sometime for those to come out if you guys do want to read for other characters.

Characters: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyuu Tomioka, Kyojuro Rengoku x GN!Reader (I don't think there's anything that would hint otherwise besides the song lyrics lol, so I'll say that reader could be read as gender neutral <;3)

Genre: Fluff

Content Warning: None... Characters might be a little OOC..

lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

SANEMI

NOW PLAYING :  PEACHES

The very first time Sanemi laid his eyes on you he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. This man was one hundred percent convinced you weren’t human and that kind of put him on edge, not gonna lie. But if you were a demon, you’d never have made it as far as you have in the Demon Slayer Corps and you certainly wouldn’t be holding that small arrangement in your hands, a bouquet of wisteria and wildflowers. No, maybe not a demon, but for sure you weren't human. The sun reflected off of your beautiful golden skin, an ethereal glow emitting from your body like a halo, not a demon but maybe an angel, he concludes. 

Pretty girl, you're like peaches

it's a soft embrace

A sweetness that spreads in my mouth

Feels good to be the bad guy 

He knows he shouldn’t get close to you, that he shouldn’t fall in love, you were both demon slayers for crying out loud, tomorrow wasn’t promised. But he just can’t say no to you, can’t stop himself from talking to you, looking for you, aching for you. He’s a goner and he knows it. And you don’t want to stay away from him either -or so you’ve told him- only spurring Sanemi to become an even better demon hunter. What's higher than a Hashira? Is there even such a thing? He knows for sure there isn't, but it doesn't matter anyways, because he’ll become it.. because now he has you to protect. And he’d rather watch the world burn than have anything happen to you. 

I am your bad hobby

I'm getting more out of breath

It makes me smile

It makes me want to embrace you more 

Sanemi knows he should not be pursuing you, but it feels right, it feels comfortable and why would he ever deny anything you have to offer him? He can't bring himself to say 'no' to you so he will gladly accept your love, wholeheartedly and with no regrets. Any moment spent with you is one he cherishes, strolling through the garden with you, listening as you happily tell him about the flowers and the trees surrounding the estate, a stupid, love struck grin permanently glued to his face whenever you're near. Both of you with excitement coursing through your veins as you'd steal glances at each other, hands softly brushing against each other. You make Sanemi feel like he's found heaven on earth, you're a paradise he never wants to leave. A jungle where we wander together

It feels so sweet

Baby close your eyes

Just feel it

Sanemi has been on cloud nine from the moment he met you. You make everything better just by being near him, the fact that he gets to call you his is something he can’t fully grasp yet. You are the opposite of him and that brings out a different side to Sanemi, a sweeter, gentler side he forgot he even had after so many years of burying. He can’t picture a life without you, not anymore. Before, he often daydreamed of what it would be like to hold you in his arms, all the things he’d say and do to you. After snapping out of his trance, Sanemi often turned into a bashful boy in those moments, embarrassed by his own thoughts, which more often than not were wholesomely pure. But now that he can make it a reality, now that he knows what it feels like to hold you in his arms, the soft brush of your skin and the smell of your hair, he never misses the opportunities to tell you, and do, all the things he dreamed about. He feels like he’s floating whenever you do the same to him.

At the very moment, we drink up each other

Our fantasies become more infinite

Whisper in my ears so it's sweeter than a dream

I'm already addicted

0:48 ───|────── 3:18

            ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

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GIYUU 

NOW PLAYING : MMMH 

You’re one of the very few people that constantly make an effort to reach out to him. And in the beginning he doesn’t understand why, why you even like him and why you go through the trouble of contacting him. But he finds himself growing attached to his new pen-pal, looking forward to the days your crow flies out over to his estate to drop off your letter. Staying until he’s finished writing his response, placing it inside the little bag he had previously taken your letter out from, tying it hurriedly before beckoning your crow closer. Swooping down to snatch it so that it could deliver it to you, your crow makes the trip to your estate, having the route memorized  by heart after doing it for a little over a year. You understood his crow was older and oftentimes forgetful, so in order not to stress the senior courier, your crow enthusiastically took on the job. Your attentiveness to his crow and your persistence of staying in contact with him causes a weird feeling to bloom in his chest whenever he receives a letter from you. 

‘Cause I'm too wicked

I want to take all of your heart,

Don’t you worry

Maybe you’ll have this whole world 

It doesn’t take long for Giyuu to accept he’s in love with you because it sends him into a full blown panic when he first gets the inkling. The more he thinks about the way you make him feel, recalling the conversations you guys often hold, that tightening in his chest as he realizes he’s craving to be in your presence.. Yeah.. He definitely has feelings for you. He’s got no idea what to do now, now that he’s not questioning every interaction he’s ever had with you (to see if you’ve dropped any hints about liking him back) now that he knows in absolute fact that, even if you hadn’t, (you definitely have, he’s just a bit slow) he wants you. Giyuu feels a bit guilty about liking you, but he can’t help it, and he’s debating with himself whether he should even pursue you, he’s scared to ruin your friendship. Until one day you ask to meet with him and holy shit he almost forgot how pretty you are in person. He’s so overwhelmed with what he’s feeling that he almost doesn’t register what he just asked you, his entire interaction with you was so incredibly stiff - far less romantic than he was hoping- in an awkwardly endearing way only Giyuu can pull off. And he damn near almost forgets how to breathe as he stares at you, blinking owlishly, as it takes him a moment for the weight of your words to sink in. You just accepted his confession. 

Their jealousy makes you shiver

Take my jacket and put it on

My shawty, that's not your fault

Just come into my arms, Destroy me if you want 

Once he actually starts dating you, you find out he adores letting everybody know that you’re his, even if he’s not necessarily shouting it from rooftops. He prefers doing so in ‘subtle’ ways. Like actually communicating with you, another human being, for longer than 2 minutes. He's not a man of many words, but it's the first time anyone has ever seen so much life in Giyuu’s eyes- is that? Is he smiling?! He’s particularly fond of giving you his haori to wear, especially in moments where he knows some of the Hashira’s (or all) will be present, just so he can "subtly" show you off. Everyone ogles at the sight of you two, gossiping loudly amongst each other about the pair, it’s something they can't quite wrap their minds around. Because since when? And how?? Giyuu is so completely enamored with you that the rest of the world just fades into fuzzy white noise around you two. You were so honey-like, your large golden brown orbs dripping with a sweetness just for him, an endless pool of amber he found himself getting lost in. He knew they talked about you two, especially him, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when you reassure him that you want him too and that he is worthy of love, not when you make the words sound so absolute, so incapable of lying to him.  

Even if I'm already fascinated and stagger

Girl, I just want more

What have you done to me?

I only miss you

Giyuu realizes he’s acting a bit out of character, but he just can’t bring himself to worry about it. Especially when you’re the reason for his actions. He’s completely bewitched by you, by what you make him feel. Something that isn’t just his grief and damn near crippling anxiety, you make him feel like he belongs, you make him feel happy. And he has no problems accepting it either, because he has no problem believing you. The words are escaping him but it’s okay, because you gaze into his eyes, cradling his head in your hands and there’s a mutual unspoken trust in them. You’re both drunk off each other, an intoxicating, addictive feeling Giyuu never wants to let go of. He never thought he’d get to experience this, to have someone that actually wanted him, that stood by his side, listened to him, cared for him. Sometimes it’s too much for him, too overwhelming, but he greedily takes everything you have to offer. 

(Mm-mhm)

Breathe out and exhale like like (Mm-mhm)

Beyond the boundary like like (Mm-mhm)

Hold you in my arms like like (Mm-mhm)

Don’t even think about other things

0:48 ───|────── 3:13

           ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

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KYOJURO

NOW PLAYING : SAY YOU LOVE ME

Kyojuro knows he likes you from the first time he met you simply because no one has ever made him feel like you have. He’s completely infatuated with you, but so unsure on how to approach it, so he remains by your side as your loyal friend. He only has space for you in his heart, eyes only for you. Which he doesn’t mind, he wouldn’t have it any other way, because the reward for being so patient was absolutely worth it. You both have a dynamic he has never experienced before. Knowing and loving someone wholeheartedly, becoming each other’s other-half, that naturally the next step is to become official. Truth be told, you both knew your friendship was destined to go to the next level, it was just a matter of who would crack first (it was Kyojuro). He goes all in the minute you two decide to date. 

It's okay to show your deeply hidden heart

Wake up from your sleeping night

During the darkest moment

Sensitive to your fingertips (Tips)

There aren't many drastic changes after you both make it official. He still takes you out to sightsee the beautiful locations he stumbled upon when he was out on missions, visiting the delicious restaurants he stopped by in different towns. The gifts and flowers never cease, in fact it increases, the only difference is he now gets to hold your hand and give you kisses whenever he can. He was a very attentive friend, he knows you like the back of his hand, something that only strengthens the foundation of your relationship. Kyojuro wants to do everything with you, since he knows you are the only person he is going to spend the rest of his days with. Communication is key for him. He’s an open book and lives his life earnestly and honestly, something that only intensifies after he gets with you. It’s something he encourages from you, he wants to break you out from your shy and hesitant personality, at least only with him. He knows it’s a bit difficult for you, you’re hesitant about voicing your thoughts worried that you might come off as selfish (even though he’s always reassured you otherwise), but he doesn’t care, he wants to be the only person you confide in this way. 

There's no need to hesitate (Yeah, yeah)

In this moment

Don't be cautious (Yeah, yeah)

You know about my еndless urgency (Yeah, yeah)

Kyojuro is a passionate man and that will never change, it’s one of the reasons why you love him, it’s only normal that he exerts that same passion in anything related to you. Kyojuro will never push you to do something you don’t want, but that doesn’t calm his impatient heart. Before dating you, Kyojuro wanted to profess his love to you nearly anytime you both met (he did it a few times in his head or to himself, sometimes he would shout it after a successful mission since even then you were always on his mind) so now that you both are dating, his heart yearns for you to tell him. Although you have yet to utter the words, he knows by your actions, everyone one of them dripping with affection for him that causes his heart to swell. (You hesitate to tell him because what if it's too soon? What if after hearing it he changes his mind? like relax cutie this is kyojuro we're talking about.)

Unlock your protected heart only for me

It's so fun, the tension is rising (Tension)

Don't stop this night that's getting shorter

I still haven't heard those words that will satisfy me

So when you do finally murmur those words in his ear, the ones he longed to hear, he cries. His heart grows, blood rushes in his ears almost violently as the words echo in his mind, he can’t stop the swelling of tears, much less stop them from falling. He basks in the moment, holding you in his arms, a long and slow kiss pressed hotly onto your lips before he pulls back with a satisfied grin. Then he’s asking you to repeat it to him. Again and again, over and over again. And everytime you do, he feels himself reaching an even higher state of nirvana. He’s addicted to the feeling and the sound. There’s nothing in this world that could tear him from you, he spends the rest of his retired life with you by his side. And no matter how many times he hears it, those words still have the same effect on him. Yes, the wait was one hundred percent worth it. And he’d go through everything once more if the end result was this, the beautiful life he has with you. 

Tell me how you feel right now (Ooh-ooh-ooh)

I don't need anything else (Ooh-ooh-ooh)

It's okay, no matter how many times you say it (Ooh-ooh-ooh)

Just say you love me one more

0:47 ───|────── 3:22

            ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS, IMAGES/GIFS OR MUSIC

Hi cuties! This is officially my first work here on my page, I hope you guys enjoyed reading it! If you did, or didn't, please let me know. Constructive criticism and feedback is deeply appreciated.

KYOJURO WILL LIVE ON FOREVER, THIS IS THE ONLY CORRECT CANON

p.s i've got something ready to come out that could be read as a part 2, though it's not completely inspired by this drabble, they're headcannons!

/) /) ( ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ) / づ づ ~ ♡

[tokusaatsus]

hihi, hope you’re doing well ♡ can i req mao confessing to reader? he would be so cute imgojng jnsane

I LIKE YOU. A LOT

ft. isara mao

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: none

Mao’s not so foolish or idealistic to think that he could give you a picture-perfect confession, like something out of a shoujo manga–with you and him standing beneath the sakura trees. Petals cascade, a pink veil that shields you from the prying gaze of the rest of the world as he spills his feelings to you, an uncontained waterfall and his fingers twine with yours–but he hopes he can at least give you something similar to that.

So he decides to write you a letter.

It reads:

Dear Y/N,

I like you. A lot.

Ah, this is probably really strange to hear but, it’s true.

And, well, I don’t know if you like me back, but my meddling (well-meaning…I hope) friends told me to go for it anyways. Like, life’s too short, right? ‘Take some risks’, and all that. So, here I am. Shooting my shot.

I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable or anything…

But I like you. A lot. Oh, I already said that, didn’t I? Sorry, I’m a little nervous… You make me nervous. Wait, I don’t think I was supposed to say that… Ugh, I was supposed to be cool so I could impress you, and I’m messing this up. Sorry. Ignore that, okay?

Um, where was I…? Oh, right. I like you.

I like a lot of things about you, and if you asked me to list them all this letter would end up being 50 pages long. So I won’t list all of them. But I like your smile, and the way you laugh, and how excited you are when you see that guy you like on TV.

I think you’re wonderful. I’m glad we’re friends.

If you accept my confession, meet me behind the school after class is over. No pressure though, haha…

Love,

Mao ♡

He leaves the letter on your desk, in an envelope with your name on it.

The whole day after is spent in a haze of nervousness. He’s distracted, and though he tries not to show it, he can tell the others are picking up on it. Some are kind enough to turn a blind eye (Fushimi, Sengoku) whereas others are like a dog with a bone, immediately calling him out on this behaviour (Himemiya). He can’t help it! He just bared his heart out to you in a letter and he can’t even see your reaction… God, this is so nerve-wracking, even more so than SS.

(That’s a lie, but it sure feels that way.)

The hours pass by agonisingly slow. When the clock strikes 5, Mao leaps out of his seat, startling poor Sengoku. After murmuring hurried apologies to the rest of the council, he rushes out the door. The hallways seem to stretch, endless. Will you be there?

As he rounds the corner, his heart skips a beat to see you standing there, letter in hand. You’re hugging your arms close to your chest, looking around nervously. “Y/N!” Mao calls, panting slightly, and you look at him wide-eyed.

“Mao, you…you actually came.”

“So did you,” He retorts, without thinking. “I mean… Y-yeah, haha, I did.”

“I, um, I got your letter.” You smile hesitantly. “So…you like me?”

He nods, mutely. Do you accept his feelings? Or have you just called him here to be rejected? You seem to read the unspoken question in his eyes, because you take a quick breath.

“Your letter…it was really sweet. So, um, thank you for writing it. To me. I, um.” You huff. “I’m sorry, I’m just nervous. Anyways. I read it all, and… I guess what I’m trying to say is… I like you. A lot. Also?” You wince at the awkwardness of your words. But Mao? Mao is overjoyed.

It might not be a picture-perfect manga confession, but it’s a confession nonetheless. And you accepted it too, which makes it a hundred times better than anything he’s ever read.

notes!

WC: 654 words

reze txt HI XAIXAI <3 i hope u enjoyed this!! idk how good my mao characterisation was but like. praying it wasn’t too ooc. ugh my mao banner is ugly asf so we Do Not See ok?? ok <3 ANYWAYS all the kisses to u <3 mwah <33

[kazoohaa]

Good day. I would to request some honkai star rail headcannos, specifically, March 7 x gn or m (up to you), tired/emotionally drained reader. Romantic with lotsa fluff please!! (Obviously sfw) if you don't want to do it, it's okay!!! thanks a lot!

𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓. honkai star rail

— notes. this is like the second time i’ve ever written for a female character and probably the first time i’ve done one whose personality is as bubbly as march !! i hope this wasn’t too ooc :,)

— details. march 7th x tired gn!reader. fluff.

while march is practically a bundle of energy, expressive and always at the ready for excitement and adventure, you were practically the complete opposite to her. subdued, tired, would much rather be staying in one place rather than running around here and there all the time. where you lacked in terms of energy, march made up for it.

oh my god it’s that one meme

most would probably wonder how two clearly contrasting personalities would have fallen in love like the two of you did. with someone as extroverted and outgoing as march, you’d expect her to better enjoy the company of someone who matched that energy, rather than someone who’s her polar opposite. you two just manage to make it work. as they say, opposites attract, after all!

march does try and bring you along with her wherever she’s going (or, at the very least, would enthusiastically encourage you to), pulling you by the hand towards whatever’s caught her eye while she chatters about something.

if you don’t feel up to it, she won’t push, of course — but she’ll be taking an extra amount of photos so that she could recount it to you later!

she absolutely loves physical affection. if there’s nothing else to do, then she’d totally be up for just slinging her arms around you and cuddling you for most of the day — after all, cuddles aren’t something that require much energy, and she gets to have hugs! it’s a win-win!

takes lots of photos of you >:) some of them are of you and her, but most of them are just you as the sole star of the photos. she has a section of the photo wall in her room reserved for the ones related to you <3

she loves to talk to you about anything and everything, really. her latest trailblazing adventure, this really good dessert she had the other day, her craving for juice, how nice the weather is, how good you look (and the fact that she’d like to take another photo of you), some interaction she had with the other astral express members, et cetera. you don’t have to pipe in if you prefer to just listen, she’s happy nonetheless!

[yumesawa-sings]

hello! my name's riko yumesawa! i'm 17 and i'm a singer! i hope we can get along!

((this is a project sekai oc roleplay account. riko is my own character. more info about her in picture))

((ooc is all in parentheses.

riko's tag is ​#💫 // talking to the stars, no pun on my name intended. mod's tag is ​#⭐️ // talking as the star, pun on my name 100% intended.

mod intro is under the cut))

((hey! i'm star. i'm an autistic minor who likes sonic, pokemon, and, of course, project sekai! my main account is @tailstism, but it's actually mostly sonic there so be warned lol

i might have adhd. not sure yet. it is a possibility! my mom thinks i might.

i did a lil projection with riko with the gaming and the not liking cheese or certain loud noises, but a lot of it is also not projection. i have never had sashimi in my life and i am not good with advice. nonetheless, the projection is definitely there!

i'm omnisexual and non binary. i use she/they/it pronouns. i came up with riko on the spot to interact with other pjsk rp accounts.

the art took like, 6 or so hours. not relevant i just wanted to mention it

there's something i like about ocs. i don't have many, i've made many but never used them again, but roleplaying as them is easy! you came up with the characterization so you can't get it wrong!

okay that's all :3))

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Can you do a scenario of Bakugou aftermath of the manga war right now, cause sense he had so much character development I think he have changed majorly big. And was wondering a bakugou x reader, aftermath after battle. I hope your up to date with the manga rn cause it’s super sad :(

But Mabye a scene of reader x bakugou, he wakes up in hospital and sees her waiting next to him in a chair waiting for him to wake up. And when he does he’s glad to see her alive and asking so many questions ☹️ maybe even a lil romantic vibe at the end ??!??😌

That would be so sweet thank you’!!

this is such a cute request ! i've been thinkin of writing a post war fic lately so thank you for the ask ! i tried to honour your request as best i could, hope you'll like it ! <3

BNHA MANGA SPOILERS !!, fem reader, injuries n blood n stuff, reader cries easily sorry im projecting, katsuki n reader have been together for a while (since before the first internship arc !)(..does this technically qualify as childhood friends to…anyways !), worried reader, worried katsu so its a lil angsty but it's pure fluff no worries !, kissing, katsuki is touchy and cannot pass up skin contact, katsuki is a biter cus i say he is so biting, best jeanist is here!! (and maybe kinda ooc cus idk him like that😭🫶🏾), afo is mentioned and called a ballsack lmfao i hate him, everyone is fine and dandy and healthy(?) cus im a major optimist, lemme know if i missed sum else<3!

it's been three weeks since katsuki's been asleep.

you'd woken up a week and a few days after the war had ended. you don't remember much besides fighting for your life, that of your friends and of the people of japan. you were greeted with the worried, relieved and snotty faces of your classmates. denki and kirishima had basically tackle hugged you and were immediately strictly reprimanded by iida and momo. your limbs hurt like hell but you could ignore it and focus on squeezing your friends for now.

except not everyone was here. you immediately realised katsuki was one of them.

you were horrified to find out from your friends, who were sure this would be your reaction and were refraining from telling you, that katsuki had once again suffered major injuries and had been asleep for a good week now.

your classmates had tried to reassure you, "bakugou's always doin' the impossible, he'll probably be awake and he'll go back to cussin' up a storm before we know it." sero said, trying his best to comfort you. you send him a smile that doesn't fully reach your eyes, but you still appreciate him nonetheless.

since that day you'd gone to visit him everyday. sometimes you'd just stare at his pretty lashes fluttering, wondering when he'd wake up. other times you'd talk to him about your day. it was boring, since you were still healing and still stuck in the hospital, but it was something.

your classmates came to visit too. kirishima comes to visit the most but you assume he’s just here to check up on you and make sure you’re okay. he stays for around an hour, sneaks you some actually edible food then always leaves you with a “don’t push yourself too much, okay !”

you go to visit your other classmates, like izuku who had also taken a major beating, but was just as stubborn as your katsuki when it came to durability. you’re amazed to see how quickly he goes back to his old self, anxiously waving his arms around and telling you he’s completely okay, before promptly wincing and yelping out an “ouch !” when he moves his arm the wrong way. you jokingly warn him not to push himself too much too quickly or you’d mess him up even more than he already was every time you leave.

“i’ll try !” he chuckles, giving you a thumbs up.

you’d also met best jeanist recently, who had come to visit your boyfriend one day while you were also there. he told you that katsuki had talked about you once and that, in best jeanist’s words he seemed to be very enamored with you. you couldn’t help the way you shyly looked down at the ground, letting out a flustered chuckle and you thought you heard best jeanist laugh underneath his long, long turtleneck.

you’re currently sitting by katsuki’s bedside for the fourth monday in a row, smiling to yourself as you watch him sleep. you wonder if he’s dreaming about anything. despite the fact you looked it up and people can’t exactly dream while they’re in a coma, but you like to think he’s just asleep and having a very nice dream. the thought makes you happy, but it also makes a knot grow in your throat.

“i do hope you're having nice dreams, but i also hope you wake up soon." you whisper lovingly, brushing some hair out of his face. you run your finger along his nose bridge and cheek, usually he wouldn't be able to take soft touches like this for more than 10 seconds before getting embarrassed and pushing your hands away, trying to distract you from his beet red cheeks. you let out a watery giggle at the memory.

your throat starts feeling a little dry and as much as you don't want to leave katsuki, you figured you wouldn't miss much if you were only gone for a few minutes. you press a quick kiss to his forehead and before you get up to leave the room you look back at him once more time. only to see something strange, his eyelashes flutter more than usual, then his eyebrows furrow,

and then his eyes open.

he blinks groggily once, then twice. he tries to reach up and rub at his eye but the bandage on his arm won't allow him to and he winces. he realizes someone is in his room after a second, slowly looking up as if in slow motion. but then his movements fast forward when he realizes it's you in his room.

his eyes widen and he practically jumps up. hastily sitting up and leaning against the railing of his bed towards you

"yn—fuck !" but he seems to have underestimated how serious his injuries were in the moment. he doubles over and hisses in pain. the noise kickstarts you and immediatly you're in motion. you rush over to him, softly but urgently grabbing his shoulders you softly push him back against his pillows, he groans as you do. "don't sit up so quickly !" you fret "just lay down—"

he grabs your arm with his somewhat okay one tightly as soon as you make contact, "are you—fuck—are you okay ?" he asks breathlessly, his eyes urgently search around on your face and he frowns slightly as he scans over your light scratches. " fuck, i passed out before i could get to check up on you.." his eyebrows furrow even harder, mad at himself for not being able to watch over you.

he lifts his not so injured hand up just slightly and you lower your head so he can place it against your cheek. he rubs over it slowly "yer not hurt, are ya ? i mean—fuck, you are, but—"

"katsu.." you smile, already shushing him.

"nothing broken ?" he starts up again, prodding at every body part he can reach. you giggle lightly. "yer all bandaged up. swear i'll find the bastards who did this shit to you."

"i already dealt with them, so you don't need to worry about that." you chuckle. he copies you, his movements slow down the slightest bit and he chuckes slightly and you've missed that sound so much your heart squeezes.

“yeah, course you did..” he sighs, eyes shining brighter than usual and you suspect he’s tearing up a little when he swiftly looks away from you to wipe at his face, you don’t comment on it cus you could feel tears welling up in your eyes as well.

he tsks at the mostly okay, but still injured, arm against his face before pulling it back glaring at it, “this shit’s a real pain.” he mutters angrily, sucking his teeth.

you spring into action again, like a toy starting up when you wind it “don’t move it so much, you messed it up really badly during the fight !” you both notice how you flinch back when you instinctively go to grab his hand, then reach forward once more and barely grab his hand to guide it towards his lap, and then his body towards the pillows behind him again. katsuki’s eyebrows furrow at your ghost like touch.

he doesn’t say a word as you ramble and simply stares at you. you’d noticed he hadn’t even put up a fight when you’d pushed him back down onto his bed, but you were more worried about his well being rather than his behavior. but now you start to get a little bit worried at his lack of reaction, you place your hand on his chest softly, afraid to hurt him "wait just a sec, i'll go get a nur—"

"no." you let out a surprised sound when he grabs your hand. he stares straight into your eyes, and the bright red shine in them is such a huge contrast to them being closed for so long it almost knocks the wind out of you.

he vehemently shakes his head "i don't need none of that."

"katsuki, you need—"

"no i don't." he says stubbornly, you don't know if you're happy or not that he seems to be just as stubborn as before everything happened. it's a relief, sure, but it's starting to annoy you a bit. you want to fire back but he cuts you off "i don't need a nurse. need you." he mutters into your hand he had brung up to his lips to speak his last sentence against.

it’s only a light press of his lips against your skin but it sends chills down your spine. he does it again, red eyes fixed onto you to bring his point across. you suck in a harsh breath, then sigh in defeat.

"okay.." you sigh. "but we still have to get a nurse later." he grunts into your hand in begrudged agreement, "later." he mutters.

once he's gotten his feel of you, he slowly lifts his head up to look at you. he shuffles around in bed until he's sitting up a little straighter, waving you off when you sit up to help when he winces slightly.

he reaches for you and tugs at your arm lightly, as if he wanted you to sit closer to him. you happily oblige, scooting a little closer until you're leaning infront of him. he grumbles, obviously unhappy about something.

"come over here." he whines petutalanty.

you giggle at his childish demand "katsuki, no. you're very hurt and i don't wanna make you feel worse if i accidently push at something too hard. we can cuddle all you want when you get checked up." you explain. he’s obviously unhappy about that, rolling his eyes accompanied by a huff.

just like he usually would. you feel your eyes burn but your chest feels lighter and lighter the more you realize he’s here. your holding his hand and he’s holding it back, you’re looking at him and he at you.

it’s your katsuki.

“that’s bullshit, m’perfectly fine.” he scoffs.

you give him a once over, raising a brow for good measure “right.” you laugh when he scoffs again, but he can’t hide the smirk growing on his face at the sound.

it’s your katsuki, alright.

it’s quiet while you’re just indulging in each other’s company, the worry in your stomach gnawing at you every day he wouldn’t open his eyes these past few weeks finally washing away as you look at him lovingly when he closes his eyes and sighs against your skin.

“stop starin’.” he complains against your hand he still had in a tight grip, cheeks turning red. it seems like he doesn’t want to let go of it any time soon and doesn’t have any plans to as he bring it up to his mouth to bite you. you struggle and squeezes at his nose with a grin.

“hey, is it so bad to wanna look at my boyfriend that he’d been sleeping every day up until now ?” you make it sound like a joke, but your smile falters slightly and katsuki realizes. his eyes widen slightly.

"how..how long was i out for ?" his voice is still clouded with sleep even now. you plop back down onto your chair, dragged closer to him now “about three weeks.” you mutter, sad smile on your face and eyes downcast.

neither of you say anything for a moment and you’re quickly reminded of the quiet you’d gotten used to when he was still asleep. you don't like it and you want to fill the silence but you don't know what to say. katsuki doesn't respond and keeps looking at your expression, blinking slowly, like he does when he's trying to discern how you feel. he's annoyingly perceptive and you feel yourself get flustered by his gaze.

"now who's the one staring.." you mutter shyly, eyes drifting towards the floor to close him off of your mind with those all seeing eyes of his. you can tell he's seen through you, but it's worth a try anyway.

he reaches and tugs at your chair leg for you to scoot closer somehow. once, then twice harder when you don't make any move to listen to him. he grunts and you worry he'll hurt himself like he always end up doing when he’s not being careful, so you lean your face closer to him. you'd stare at him at all day like this if you could but your eyes won't look in his properly before they're shooting back towards the floor, katsuki huffs a breath of laughter onto your cheek.

"m'not allowed to look at my girlfriend after bein' passed the fuck out for three weeks ?" he smirks his eyes are soft even when he gruffs a mean laugh when he reaches up to pinch your nose back and you grumble at him, softly patting at his hand to shoo him away with a smile you try to hold back. he pokes at your cheek, you go to shoo and scold him but he surprises you by softly placing his hand against your cheek.

“was worried about you, you know.”

your eyes widen and your mouth drops open slightly at his sincerity. your heart warms and you can't stop the tears blurring your vision anymore. you clamp your mouth shut so as not to sob, but your bottom lip wobbles and katsuki huffs again.

"was thinkin 'bout you the whole time. hate that creepy ballsack head,” he grumbles bitterly “kept me from seein' my girl." he smiles when you let out a watery snort. you grab ahold of the hand on your face, running your thumb across the rough skin.

"i heard you really did a number on him."

"course i did. fuckin' decimated the fucker." he boasts and you laugh loudly. "made him cry like a baby. literally." he adds, you raise a brow in question but he simply shakes his again, as if telling you not to worry about it.

you don't question it and simply sigh against his hand happily, it feels nice to feel him again. "the others are gonna be happy to see you up. kiri's been coming to visit you every day. and i've forbidden izuku from getting out of bed, but he asks about you all the time."

katsuki scoffs, thumb slowling down in its movements "damn deku.. he better not think he's hot shit cus he woke up before me." you snort loudly at that, shaking your head at his childish antics.

"good he's not runnin' around. he'd probably end up breaking more of his bones by himself."

"that's what i said !" you giggle, and katsuki snorts. you missed hearing him. you missed him so much, you reach a hand up and wipe at your still wet eyes, katsuki grabs at that hand to wipe at your tears for you.

"was worried about you too, katsu." you sniffle "when i heard you got yourself hurt bad again i just—i got really scared.”

your boyfriend's eyebrows furrow sorrowfully and he wishes his body wasn't so weak so he could wrap you up in his arm and feel you close, never let you go. but his hand against your wet cheek will have to do for now.

but katsuki is a creature of habit, so he speaks "come over here." he whispers.

you lean in a small distance at first, not really sure of what he wanted you to do. katsuki grunts but when you get close enough he reaches for the back of your head and pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours.

and it's everything. soft yet his grip on you is firm, slow yet urgent when you grab the front of his hospital clothes and he huffs against you when he shoves his tongue into your mouth with a soft groan. eyebrows furrowing in focus to handle his breathing because he doesn't want to pull away.

not yet.

you're first to pull away but he doesn't let you go far, immediately swooping in for another kiss, this one just as- if not more urgent-than the first. you softly run your hands through his soft locks and try to memorize the feeling like you hadn't been touching it everyday for the past three weeks. it feels different now.

not yet.

finally, you pull away even after katsuki chases your lips with a pout. you giggle and tug at his hair and he huffs at you, and leans forward to bite at the tip of your nose.

"katsuki !" you squeal flying back to wipe at your nose.

“don’t katsuki me” he chuckles, cheeks dusted pink. from the lack of oxygen just a moment ago or from embarrassment you don’t know, “ ‘ts your own fault, dumbass.”

you scrunch your nose and stick your tongue out at him and he snickers again. you’d missed that sound. you’d missed his laugh, and his stupid nicknames and his voice, the way he says your name and his eyes and his smile.

“i missed you.” you breathe, smiling at him with what you know can only be called heart eyes. katsuki blinks at you, turning red to the tips of his ears. he looks away but reaches for your hand, you give it to him and he presses his lips to the back of your hand.

“missed you too. really did.” he mutters.

this is the most embarrassed you’ve seen him and the sincerest at the same time, you commit the image to memory as your stomach flutters and your heart beats for him. and his for you. you can feel it in the way his hand steadily gets warmer, the way he closes his eyes and breathes you. in the way he kisses each of your fingertips and finishes it off with a bite to each to make you laugh.

you both know a lot of things still need to happen but they can wait for now. for now, his heart is here, beating with yours. your katsuki is awake and back where he’s supposed to be.